Wizard vs Demigod
by AnnabethJackson PiperGrace
Summary: Percy Jackson was pretty sure he knew about everything that was out there. He knew that he was a demigod. He knew he was a pretty dam good one, too. He knew his girlfriend obsessed over Harry Potter too much. But when he wakes in the wizard world, with nothing but Riptide to guide him, will he wish that he'd paid more attention to Annabeth? Will our hero survive at Hogwarts?
1. Chapter 1

**the chapters in this story are a LOT shorter than in my other one, but that means i'll update more :)**

**i've wanted to do a PJO/HP fanfic for a while, so i hope u guys like it ;P**

**(for the whole story) Guess what? I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter! They're Rick Riordan's and JK Rowling's! **

CHAPTER ONE~PERCY

Let's make something very clear: Annabeth Chase _does not_ obsess over things.

My girlfriend of nearly two years has never gushed about anything or talked about anything as much as she has been.

This is the reason I both respected and hated Harry Potter. Respected that he could make her turn into a fangirl. Hated that he was all she talked about.

Should I mention he's a fictional character from a book series?

From Annabeth's speeches, I was an expert. Seven books, eight movies. I could name all the main characters by their full names. I knew the detailed plot of every book. Annabeth had presented me with a diagram comparing every book and movie. I knew a lot of the spells and how to perform them.

She'd been telling me to read the books, but I'd refused. I was kind of afraid that I'd A) become a fanboy or b) become a target for MORE Harry Potter facts. Neither of which I could stand. I'll take a couple of gorgons any day over those retched _Harry Potter facts_. *shudders*

Don't get me wrong, Annabeth was not turned into a softie. No, she could still whip my butt in sword fighting, leave me in the dust if we raced, or scale the climbing wall before I could blink.

She just was now a Harry Potter fangirl.

It was on an evening where Annabeth had been dragged into town by Calypso, Piper and Hazel to go shopping for a dance.

I'm just lying on the beach, staring at the stars. Since the war ended, life has been good. Almost too peaceful. Too normal.

Leo returned, with Calypso, about six months ago, and Jason and Piper have been hard at work, travelling between camps building shrines and stuff. Frank and Hazel are at Camp Jupiter, getting used to their new roles (as praetor and a centurion).

Annabeth and I'd been going to Goode High together, and we were going to move to Camp Jupiter for college.

I close my eyes, at peace with the world for the moment.

I sat up suddenly, sand flying in all directions.

I swear I heard something.

Quickly, I scramble to my feet, and in a flash, Riptide is in my hands.

Nothing but the waves crashing and an owl hooting in the distance.

My battle-trained ears hear shuffling. I glance around, frantic.

Why is this striking terror into me? It could be Annabeth, with her Yankee's cap. Or the Stoll's playing a prank.

But something tells me that's not it. I feel uneasy. Something's not right.

A shiver slithers down my spine and I hear a hooting owl and a word before my world is tossed into darkness:

"_Stupefy!_"

* * *

_As I tumble through darkness, I hear screams of "No!" "Not again!" and even "Percy!" But above all, I hear, a bit surprisingly, the voice of Athena: "I tried to warn you, Perseus. I tried to keep my daughter from distress. Foolish boy."_

* * *

My head aches. It pounds painfully, but I barely notice. I've felt worse. Words bounce through my head like ping-pong balls: "Percy!" "Not again!" "Foolish boy!"

The hard, uneven ground lies under my back. The sky is dark and clouded over, as if it has secrets to hide and vows to keep.

My heart pounds as I quickly get to my feet. I feel around for Riptide, and smile when I pull it out. I hurry to uncap it.

I take in the scene around me in confusion. Everything is black, as if burned, and I can smell it in the air. Charred remains of tents are scattered around me. Smoke still floats up from the tattered pits and pieces.

Either Leo's been here, or something else happened.

It just doesn't feel right.

I spot a forest and sprint to it. I follow a path, probably for the mortals to hike on while camping.

I hope everyone got out in time. I run as light as I can, as to not make any noise unless I need to hear something.

I freeze as I hear heavy footsteps. I don't say anything, I don't even breathe.

"Hello?" a voice calls in the darkness. It sounds like a teenager. The voice doesn't belong to anyone with heavy steps.

My mind immediately figures out who's the enemy, and who's not. My vision in the dark was pretty good already, and, seeing as I'd woken up in complete darkness, my eyes had also adjusted, giving me even better sight.

I can see, farther on the path, three figures. In the woods, off the path to the left, the outline of who I judge to be the enemy. I run forward.

"Who's there?" the same voice from before questions. Poor mortal. So clueless.

I freeze in my tracks when a different voice yells: "_MORSMORDRE_!" out of instinct, I duck, though nothing happens.

I feel anger bubble up. Was this some kind of prank? Yelling random things and knocking me out?

It was an awfully-planned prank, in my opinion. I was going to kill the Stolls. Or whoever planned this.

I don't know why, but the words "morsmorde" and "stupefy" seem familiar. Why do I feel like I've heard them before?

Oh gods, I need Annabeth. I'm useless by myself. I hope she's okay.

In my peripheral vision, I spot a green cloud in the sky.

It almost seems to glow, shaping into a skull before a snake starts to appear out of its mouth.

Not the strangest thing I've seen in my life, so I shake it off and run at the figure in the trees with the weird vocabulary..

"Hey, you!" I yell, into the woods.

Then I do something Annabeth would undoubtedly call a "Seaweed Brain moment."

I run, dropping Riptide and jump onto the person.

At that moment, he grunts and suddenly, with a crack, I feel like I'm being pushed and pulled, the air torn out of me, then shoved back down my throat. Kinda like a more painful shadow traveling, I guess.

I (we?) appear in a dark room, lit only by a fire in the hearth. I'm shoved to the ground.

"I believe we have a guest," a voice hisses.

**JUST SO YOU KNOW, ATHENA DID NOT SEND PERCY INTO THE HP WORLD OR WHATEVER. IT WAS SOMEBODY ELSE. ATHENA WAS ONLY TRYING TO WARN HIM BECAUSE SHE KNEW HIS ABSENCE WOULD HURT ANNABETH.**

**btw did you guys figure out Athena's warning? I know it's easy, but I felt clever, at the time :/**

**review!**

**while waiting for me to update (shouldn't be long) u can read my other story (just a PJO fanfic). :)**

**Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two!**

**thanks for the review Winterlover6 :)**

**WARNING: the majority of my story will be cliffhangers (don't kill me, i like suspense!) but i update quickly, so u won't wait long! but i really am sorry for the cliffhangers, i just can't resist.**

CHAPTER TWO~PERCY

I jump to my feet and my hand shoots into my jeans for my pen, but it hasn't reappeared in my pocket yet.

Great.

I look around quickly, getting in my surroundings.

The room is somewhat large, furnished with an old-looking rug and a small couch. A warm, cozy fire crackles in the hearth.

But the people in the room ruin the entire thing.

A young man with the wild eyes of a maniac stands behind the chair, which faces away from me, towards the fire. A small man that whimpers and cowers in a way that reminds me of a rat stands in the corner.

"And who would you be?" a voice hisses. I glance quickly from the maniac man to the rat man, frowning. It belongs to neither of them. No, it belongs to the person in the chair, whoever that is.

"Uh, I'm Harry Potter," I say, hoping they haven't read Harry Potter, because honestly I can't think of a better name at the moment.

Then a bunch of things happen at once.

First: "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Where have I heard that phrase before? What does it mean again?

I'm suddenly stiff and I fall backwards, hitting the ground painfully, yet I can't make a sound.

"Harry Potter?!" the madman hisses.

Oops. He's read the books.

I can't see anything but the ceiling, but I hear the man in the chair's voice: "I can assure you, you are not Harry Potter."

The dude's voice is honestly evil, but I can't say I'm scared of it. I mean, he doesn't sound like a literal monster. Just a human with speech problems and possibly anger issues.

I feel the thing keeping me frozen fade off me and I jump to my feet. I hear another of those weird words: "_Crucio!_"

Pain seizes every fiber of my body and it feels like I'm being pulled, pushed, burned, and smacked everywhere. It is pure agony.

I want to scream, but I can't move, because suddenly I'm thrown into a quick memory:

_"__Percy?" she called, panic creeping into her voice._

_"__I'm right here."_

_I tried to put my hand on her shoulder, but she wasn't standing where I thought. I tried again, only to find she was several feet farther away._

_"__Percy!" Annabeth's voice cracked. "Why did you leave me?"_

I snap back, and suddenly the pain isn't so strong anymore. No, no, it had hurt much worse when Annabeth was blind, and thought I'd abandoned her. Her pain was my pain.

So, in all honesty, I'd felt pain much worse than this.

The pain ebbs away to nothing.

"What has happened?" the man in the chair hisses.

"Master," the madman replies, looking at me with respect and fear. "He feels nothing."

Well, I wouldn't call it nothing, but your little _spell_ didn't–

And just like that, I realize.

_Stupefy._

_Morsmorde._

_Petrificus Totalus_

_Crucio._

They were all spells.

From frickin' _Harry Potter_.

I couldn't help myself. I fell to my knees, laughing so hard I could barely breathe. I fell onto my side, laughing and sniggering.

The only thing that stops my laughing is the sight of a boot heading towards my face.

In a flash, I roll to the side, flip onto my feet, and punch the guy in the face.

He groans, his hands flying to his face to cover his right eye where I hit him, then points a stick– no a _wand _–at me and a giggle escapes my mouth again.

"_Avada Kedavera_!" the madman roars.

The spell shoots towards me, but I duck. The green light moves sluggishly, much slower than a swinging sword, making it almost effortless to dodge.

"You little *bleep*!" the madman bellows, starting towards me. (Just so you know he, in fact, did not say "bleep". What he said was much more colorful, I assure you.)

I frown as I easily step out of the way of the charging man. "Hey are you guys like die-hard Harry Potter fans or something? Why are you waving around sticks?"

"It's not a stick, you bloody Muggle! And I am not a _fan_ of Harry Potter! No, when I get my hands on that boy, he will be surely killed." The madman seems so angry he's frozen, clenching his stick. "And it's a _wand_. And I'm going to kill you with it."

A laugh escapes me again. "Didn't you already try to shoot me with your silly little branch? Look, guys, I don't know who you are or whatever, but you're not going to scare me, and you're not going to kill me either. That would break my dear ol' mother's heart."

"YOU ARE IN THE PRESENSE OF THE DARK LORD, YOU FOOL!" the madman roars, but I just stand there, unfazed, tapping my foot, quite bored, as he continues. "YOU WILL BOW BEFORE HIM, AND THEN YOU WILL DIE!"

"Three things," I say. The guy still steams and looks almost as angry as Clarisse was when I blew up the bathroom (with her in it) back when I was twelve. "First, dude, take a chill pill. Second, you are not the first person who's tried to kill me, though the stick _is_ a new method. You aren't going to succeed though, sorry man. And third," I pause, looking around the room. The rat man stands in the corner, looking quite like a wimp, and the man in the chair still faces the fire, probably listening. "I don't see a 'Dark Lord'."

The guy was obviously referring to Voldemort (who had the funniest name ever, it sounds like moldy-wart).

The madman looks triumphant. He strides quickly over to the chair. "You will cower before the Dark Lord."

I nod, mocking earnest agreement. "Of course I will."

"_Avada Kedavera_!" he roars again, out of anger.

I simply step out of the way again. "Dude, at the _least,_ aim a little better next time. This is getting too easy. Soon I might just leave, it's so boring."

"Enough!" the man in the chair suddenly hisses. "I wish to speak to this boy!"

"Yeah, I want to speak with the 'Dark Lord'!" I say, feigning excitement. "Where I come from, he's famous!" That was not entirely a lie, even though it's more like _infamous_.

The madman looks so boiled over, I'm frankly surprised he hasn't exploded, but he just puts his hand on the chair and slowly turns it around so I can see who, or what, sits on it.

**review?**

**sorry again, i hate cliffhangers, too, but i really cannot help it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**just so you know, all the spells in this story are actually spells in the books, i don't make them up**

**thanks for the reviews!**

CHAPTER THREE~PERCY

I shriek, covering my eyes. "Get your ugly baby away from me!"

I hear a more-confident voice yell: "_Avada Kedavera_!"

My hands fly away from my face and I drop to the ground, the green light passing over my head.

"Whoa," I say under my breath. Did the baby (the really, _really_ ugly one) shoot that? It was much faster than the madman's and I felt it shoot over my head.

"Who are you?" the creepy thing hisses.

"I'm Nobody," I say, then resist smiling at the old joke.

"You are speaking to Lord Voldemort, you shall tell the truth," the voice demands.

"Wait a sec," I say out loud. "_That's_ Voldemort? From the…"

Then I remember, from when Annabeth had forced me to watch the fourth movie, _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_, that Voldemort was an ugly thing that was like, barely human in that one.

"Oh, from the fourth movie," I finish, nodding as I get it.

The room almost freezes.

"Movie?" the madman seems confused. "Is that a spell?"

"Oh yes," I suddenly get an amazing idea. I snap my fingers behind my back, manipulating the Mist to form me a stick… I mean a wand. Whatever.

I bring the wand forward, forcing a look on my face of complete insanity and I cackle manically. "_Movie_." I say powerfully, and it takes all my willpower not to smile or laugh. Stupid wizards. And they think _Muggles_ aren't in the know.

The madman flinches, covering his head and I take that moment to sprint to the door, throw it open and take off down the staircase, flying down the old wooden stairs (not literally, that's Jason's thing).

I'd dropped my Mist wand somewhere, but it was probably gone now anyway.

I find myself on the bottom floor, with the madman shooting spells from above as he chases me.

I'm frantic. Not afraid, but I'm not exactly sure where I am.

I dodge one of the lights (spells, whatever), and I feel around for Riptide.

I hear the madman get to the bottom floor, and it's completely dark.

My eyes adjust slightly and I can just barely see him standing at the bottom of the stairs, listening for me.

"Foolish boy," he growls. "You think you're so powerful. But you will die. Especially when the Dark Lord rises. You will be hunted down, and killed, right after Harry Potter."

I creep quickly up to where I'm right in front of the wizard. In milliseconds, Riptide is at his throat and I hiss: "I am Nobody. I am Everybody. I am your worst nightmare. You will not find me until the exact moment I wish it. Harry Potter is under my protection. You will die long before he does."

The light from Riptide's glow slightly illuminates just our faces.

I glare my best at him and he actually whimpers, dropping his wand from his shaky hand. Before he can realize what's going on, I re-cap Riptide, snatch his wand, and dart quickly into a nearby room.

I close the door, and it's pitch-black for a moment, before my eyes adjust to the room.

Quickly, I search for an exit, hearing the madman thump around in the main room.

I spot a window, with the pane already broken. The wind whips through the frame that's lined with jagged glass points. The moonlight outside is dull and doesn't light up the room much, but in a few seconds, I dodge a bed and a small table and find myself next to the frame. I'm debating jumping out.

"WHERE HAVE YOU GONE BOY? GIVE ME MY WAND BACK, *BLEEEEEEEEEEEEP*!" he roars, and I can hear him slamming through the doors, looking for me.

I make a split-second decision, and run back into the other room. I immediately spot the madman's figure and I grab him around the neck, after quickly returning my sword and his wand to my pockets.

"I am Percy Jackson." I growl menacingly. "I will kill you one day, but you will never touch Harry Potter. You will try to rise Voldemort, but you won't succeed. I will haunt you, I will torture you, and until the day I kill you, you will be miserable. I am no wizard. I am no Muggle. I am a nightmare. I am _your_ nightmare." My words fade into a hiss at just the right moment.

I whip out my sword and slice him across the neck, leaving a cut that wasn't fatal, but would leave a scar.

This would be an awesome time to have the ability to shadow travel, but obviously I can't do that.

So instead I only make it look like I've disappeared by manipulating the Mist to cover me.

"Good-bye, Bartemius Crouch _Junior_," I spit the words with hate, though I'm internally proud I remembered his name from the movie. "We will meet again."

In truth, I just turn and walk out of there, but to him, he saw a creepy, insane guy who just said he would haunt him forever, until his death, _then_ sole his wand, _then_ disappeared.

Creepy was what I was going for.

I mean they can't be actual, wizards, right? It's just a silly book, so they're just die-hard (_really_ hard) fans, with _really_ good props.

But… I glance at the slight blood dripping down my sword.

Celestial Bronze cut him. He's a demigod.

…or is he something else?

I walk out onto the lawn, still shrouded in the Mist.

I look across a huge yard, and I can see, far away, a small town, lit up slightly. I glance at the wand that's sticking out of my pocket.

As I walk across the field, towards the town, I take the wand out.

I smirk, looking at it. It's simple and black, with a single line carved into the surface that spirals around the wand from tip to tip.

"I wonder," I say, curiosity dominating my voice. With another smirk, I point in front of me and say one of my favorite spells:

"_Bombarda_ _Maxima_!" in the way that Annabeth made me/taught me to do it.

An explosion erupts from the tip of the wand and explodes across the huge field.

I stand there in shock, staring at the wand in awe.

What kinda frickin' Harry Potter merchandise was _available_ out there? An actual wand?

I was suddenly glad Annabeth had made me memorize so many spells.

"_Periculum_." I say, just to test out the wand. On cue, red sparks shoot from the wand.

Then I realize this'll blow my cover and ruin the whole freaking-out-Barty-and-Voldy thing, so I hold the wand, not trusting it in my pocket, and I run as fast as I can out of the field, towards the town, and away from Lord Voldemort.

* * *

_Meanwhile, back in the forest, before Perseus Jackson even left the woods..._

* * *

HARRY

"Mad, though," Hermione says, referring to the Death Eaters that had/are marching through the campsites and woods, setting things on fire, "to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight! I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just–"

She halts her speech abruptly, and looks back over her shoulder. Ron and I glance around, too. It sounds like someone was staggering through the trees. I listen for a moment longer. Someone's on the path, too.

"Hello?" I call.

I scramble quickly to my feet and peer around through the trees.

Then suddenly: "_MORSEMORDE_!" something green appears from the spot I was trying to see, and it flies over the treetops, into the dark night sky.

"What the–" Ron gasps, jumping to his feet.

But I'm distracted. I hear a voice, someone who hadn't uttered the spell, shout: "Hey, you!"

I snatch Hermione's wand and whisper: "Lumos Maxima!"

The bright light comes on in time for me to see the obviously evil spell-shooter and a boy, of about eighteen, spring onto him.

The boy's face seems to burn into my memory, that split-second of his shock, but determination. His eyes had been sea-green and fierce, his raven black hair had fallen into his face, the sweat on his brow making them stick to his forehead.

Before they disappear.

I realize I didn't see the evil guy. But the boy's face for that one moment is like a picture taken by my mind.

As the light from the wand fades, I stand paralyzed.

Had that boy just saved my life?

**thoughts? **

**yay or nay?**

**Adios!**


	4. Chapter 4

**hi again!**

**sorry, i update this story a lot :/**

CHAPTER FOUR~PERCY

I sit at a table in a small restaurant, staring at the lady across from me.

"Are you lost or somethin'?" she cocks her head to the side, curious. She looks about forty, with mousy brown hair that's back in a ponytail. She has food on her clothes, and she obviously has been working here for a while, but I'm the only costumer at the moment.

Her accent is British, and I realize that the madman's had been, too.

"Yeah," I say, staring at my hands. "Where am I?"

"Little Hangleton, England, kid," she snorts. "How on earth did you get _this_ lost?"

"I don't know," I shake my head, sighing. "Can you tell me about that house on the hill?"

She shivers. "You mean the Riddle House?"

At that moment, the door bursts open, and a tall man in a black robe stands at the door.

He looks around, and spotting us, starts over.

The woman scrambles to her feet. "May I show you to a table, sir?" she seems to cower under him, but her voice remains steady.

"No ma'am," he studies her for a sec, then asks, "Do you have a wand on you?"

She looks confused. "Wand?"

The man shakes his head. "_Obliviate_."

I know that one. When he turns to me, I jump to my feet, hands in the air. "Look, man. Don't obliviate me, now."

He looks me over, spotting my/the madman's wand. A scowl settles on his face. "You are under arrest for offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy."

"What the Hades does that mean?" I back up a little more, pretending to be terrified.

The man draws his wand. "You will come with me peacefully or else."

I don't know why, but I suddenly considered going with him.

If there was a wizard world out there…

"Can I ask something real quick?" I say.

He looks cautious, but says: "Go on."

"Is Harry Potter real?"

"Of course he is," the man snaps. "Now you have one more chance to come peacefully before I will be forced to bind you."

"You were going to bind me anyway," I say. It's not a question. I make a split-second decision to go with him. It's my quickest way out of this town. "I'll go with you peacefully."

HARRY

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" says Ron furiously, striding over to his owl, Pigwidgeon, to stop him from choking.

A knock at the door saves me from answering and Hermione bursts into the room, holding a newspaper.

"Listen to this!" she says in a rush. "_Young wizard Perseus "Percy" Jackson, 16, was arrested last night for violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy. Of all places for this juvenile delinquent to be found, he was found in the small village of Little Hangleton, England. _

_Little Hangleton was, in fact, the location of a historical mansion known as the Riddle House. It is well-known that that is the old property of none other than the parents of Tom Riddle, who later became known as You-Know-Who._"

Hermione pauses, letting that sink in.

Ron and I gasp. "Is he a Death Eater?" Ron wonders.

"I don't know," Hermione says. "The article's pretty long, but the guy _is_ only sixteen."

"So?" Ron says. "Let me see it."

He tries to snatch away the paper, but Hermione dodges his hand and continues reading.

"_Jackson, after interrogation, was found to have grown up in New York, USA. His father was lost at sea long ago, and his mother, Sally, is still at home with her husband, Paul Blofis._

"_Even with Veritaserum, Jackson didn't say much about his personal life. He was kicked out of many schools_–" Hermione gives a disapproving snort. "–_and has the background of a troublemaker._

"_Jackson's trial will be public on August 31__st__ at 6:00am. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has stated, 'I have spoken with Mr. Jackson. Based on his actions and words so far, Azkaban is definitely a possibility.' _

"_If not prison for Jackson, officials at the Ministry suspect that he will be sent to an asylum. He speaks of things that make no sense, and even claims that the whole Wizarding World was just out of a book he read._

"_Is Perseus Jackson friend or foe? Is he even sane? Look for more news on this young criminal mind._"

Hermione finishes and we stare at her.

"Yep, he's a Death Eater," Ron concludes.

"Wait!" I say, thinking furiously. "It says the guy might be mentally ill. Maybe he was driven insane by Voldemort!"

"Harry!" Hermione scolds.

"Don't say his name, mate!" Ron agrees.

I shake it off. "Guys, I think we need to give the guy a chance. I mean _look_ at–" I snatch the article and the whole world seems to melt away.

My hand clenches on the paper as I see the moving photo of Perseus Jackson. My eyes are glued to his picture.

"Harry? Harry!" Hermione cries, snatching the paper from my hands.

I stare at the wall, unsure what to do.

I'd seen that boy before.

He'd saved me.

He'd jumped onto the guy who'd put the Dark Mark in the sky.

I'd seen his face right before he disappeared.

No, this guy was no criminal. He'd saved my life.

I snatch the paper back, ignoring Ron and Hermione, and I look at the picture again.

Maybe Voldemort drove him insane.

All because he saved me.

"_Harry!_" Ron yells in my face.

I blink and stare at him, shocked. "What?"

"Blimey, Harry!" he says. "What's wrong with you?"

I quickly explain everything to them.

They stare at me in astonishment.

Then they start talking at once.

"Bloody hell!"

"If he saved your life–"

"That guy's not a Death Eater, then?"

"–you should tell–"

"Guys!" I shout.

"Harry!" Hermione says. "You have to tell someone! You can't let him go off to jail after he saved your life!"

"I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about Percy Jackson's fate anymore," a voice behind them says.

Mr. Weasley stands, in his work robes, at the door. "His trial was this morning."

"What happened?" Hermione begs.

"The guy was proven innocent," Mr. Weasley says. We breathe a sigh of relief. "But he was also proven to be mentally sick, and he has scars everywhere on his body. You-Know-Who had probably got ahold of the poor kid once." Mr. Weasley sounds like he's really upset about it.

"Did you meet him yet?" I ask.

"I'm on my way to the Ministry now," Mr. Weasley says. "I will let you know in the morning what happened to him."

"Thanks, Dad," Ron says.

Hermione and I thank him as well.

I turn to my friends. "Is Vold– I mean, You-Know-Who back?"

Ron and Hermione shrug helplessly, and Ron and I continue packing in silence.

**i'll explain why it says Percy is 16 when i already said he was like 18 in the next chapter**

**btw next chapter WILL have Barty Crouch Jr POV like IVXLCDM suggested **

**review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**i feel like this chapter didn't turn out the way i wanted it to :/**

**i hope you like it anyway :P**

CHAPTER FIVE~PERCY

I sat, locked in a room. My trial just finished.

I got a punishment worse than prison.

They were sending me to school. Ugh.

During the trial, I kept my mouth shut, feigning fear.

They had started toward me with this bottle, trying to get it down my throat. I had quickly diluted it, in hope that it would prevent the… whatever it did.

Turns out it's called Veritaserum. And it forced my mother's name and Paul's name out of my mouth. I cursed myself for letting that happen.

I didn't say anything else except that I was I sixteen (lie, of course). Then I glued my mouth shut and refused to open it.

Now they concluded that I was mentally unstable, and they were sending me to school to recover.

An asylum school?

No. They were sending me to Hogwarts.

I was convinced I was in a dream by now, so I'm going along with it. Fine, I'll play along. Mentally unstable? I could do that. It would help me get out of classes.

I'm not a Harry Potter fanboy, so I'm in no way excited about the idea of school, no matter if it was a magical one.

I mean come on! I'm not even a wizard! I'm a demigod! I don't know why Crouch's wand worked for me, but it's not my problem.

A knock at the door interrupts my drifting thoughts and a man enters, wand out.

I don't see why he had his wand. I mean, I was magically bound to the wall and floor. Only my right arm was free.

"What's up?" I nod in greeting at the man.

He's dressed in formal clothes, but they look old, and patched-up. He has a head of graying red hair and I can see he has laugh lines, though he is now frowning.

"Good day, Perseus," he says, shutting the door behind him.

"Actually it's Percy," I immediately correct.

"Sorry, Percy," he turns back around and looks at me cautiously, obviously deep in thought. "I am Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

He holds out a hand, and I take it, shaking it firmly.

So, should I play the insane kid, the nice kid or the evil kid?

I don't know why, but I feel like I can trust Arthur.

So, naturally, I lie to him.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," and no that wasn't the lie. "I'm assuming they want you to interrogate me?"

He gives a small laugh, still looking at me like he wasn't sure whether or not I'd explode or offer him coffee. "No, actually," he clears his throat. "The Minister has directed my wife and I to be your caretakers. School begins tomorrow, and I have a few children who attend Hogwarts who will help you settle in."

I nod. Then I look up suddenly. "Wait, you say your name is Weasley?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes?"

So I was going to meet the Weasley family. Annabeth was going to kill me when I got home. After she takes my wand, of course.

"Arthur Weasley? As in father of–" I spoke the first Weasley that came to mind. "Charlie Weasley?!" Which one was he again?

Then one of Annabeth's rants came back to me: _Charlie Weasley is the second oldest Weasley brother! He went to Hogwarts and was awesome at Quidditch, but went to study dragons in Romania. He passed his Apparating test on the second try, the first one landing him five miles south of his target, on top of an old Muggle woman…_

Now that I think of it, Charlie was the one that I thought was really cool. Handled dragons for a living. That's pretty dam awesome.

"I've always wanted to meet him," I put a lot of wistfulness into my voice. "I admire his work with dragons."

Arthur looks mildly surprised at my speech, but then he grins. "Well, you will be able to meet him soon! You'll come home with me as soon as they run a few checks, give you you're wand back, and then we'll be set to go!"

I nod, keeping my face full of excitement. "Gods, I can't wait! Wow… a real dragon handler…"

"Fond of dragons then?" Arthur smiles slightly.

I nod. "Yeah. Don't get to study them a lot, but I think I'd be cool."

I hated all this acting stuff. This was absolutely nothing like me. I couldn't wait to get out of here and go home, these people could go to Hades for all I care.

I mean _me_? _Study_ something? Please! The world must be ending!

_Seaweed Brain, are you feeling okay?_ I could imagine Annabeth would say_. Wow, the day has come where you've actually _wanted_ to study. The world _must_ be ending._

"I heard that you are entering the fourth year at age sixteen?" Arthur says suddenly.

"Yeah," I mumble. "They said my education wasn't high enough, so they lowered me a few grades." Excuse me for not going to school! I was fighting giants and escaping hell!

All my friends, in my imagination, were laughing at me anyway.

Arthur smiles sympathetically. He walks forward and clamps me on the back firmly. "That's okay, I'm sure you'll do fine."

It was like he broke through my barrier. I felt it crumble so quick it was like an avalanche collapsing down a mountain.

I stare at the floor. "I just want to go home," I say honestly.

"You from America?" he says slowly.

"New York," I say.

"Does your family know you're gone?"

I bite my lip, and shake my head. "They're going to kill me," I laugh.

He frowns. "Why are you laughing?"

"It's not like this is the first time I've gone missing," I shrug.

"You've gone missing before?!"

"A few times," I shrug again. "I'm getting tired of it though."

He doesn't seem to know what to make of that. He turns to leave.

Suddenly a thought occurs to me and I call, "Wait!"

Arthur has his wand out in a half-second.

Wait what? Was he suspicious of me this whole time?

"Whoa," I say, staring at his wand tip. "Dude, I'm not an enemy."

"Then what are you?"

I really didn't know how to answer.

"Exactly," Arthur says, his mouth in a hard line.

"I'm not insane, you know," I say as he tries to leave again.

"What?" he says, puzzled.

I roll my eyes. "Everyone here thinks I'm either a criminal or insane, and I'm neither." This time I'm not acting when my eyes glaze over as I remember harder times. I turn back to Arthur. "The worst you could call me is… _damaged_. Possibly scarred. But not insane."

Arthur doesn't say anything.

"Sir, I won't hurt your family," I promise. "Not now, not ever. I swear it."

The man still watches me with a skeptic eye.

I sigh. "I will tell you the full truth, but not here. Do we have a deal?"

I hold out my hand. Arthur steps forward slowly and shakes my hand again.

"I apologize for my suspicions," he explains. "You seem trustworthy, but often times, in this world, it seems as if the kindest ones always are the enemy. And, Percy," he pauses, studying me, "you have a broken look in your eyes. And an aura of power surrounds you. But you seem relaxed. It's unsettling. I hope you'll forgive me. My family–"

I hold my hand up to stop his speech. "It's fine. Family is always the most important thing."

He half-smiles at me. "You know, Percy, I don't think that you're as bad as they say."

I crack a grin in return. "Well I hope not. I've heard some really nasty things."

ARTHUR

As soon as I clamped him on the back, something changed. I realized his interest in dragons, and everything was a façade. I'd been immediately suspicious, because of what people said about him.

But then I realize that he's nothing but a kid; one who's been hurt.

It takes another hour of checking and re-checking Percy before they hand him back his wand and soon we are Apparating out of the Ministry.

We stand outside the Burrow.

Percy glances at me. "Does Apparating make you tired?"

I shake my head. "No, not really."

"Could you take me home for a visit?" he asks quietly.

I bite my lip, unsure.

"Please?" he begs. "I'll come back with you. Promise."

"New York?" I sigh.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

I nod. He tells me an address and describes what it looks like.

And in less than a second, we stand in front of the Empire State Building.

I frown. Does he live here?

PERCY

I run in and up to the front desk.

All I need is conformation that the Greek gods are still out there. At the moment, I'm feeling extremely alone.

I speed walk up to the front desk. "Sixth hundredth floor."

Mr. Weasley follows me in, looking around in amazement.

The guard at the front desk looks up. "No such thing, kid. This building only has a hundred and two floors."

"I need an audience with Zeus."

"Sorry?" the man looks at me like I'm quite insane.

"You heard me."

"Zeus?" he says. "The Roman god? Sorry, kid, you won't find him here."

"He… is… _Greek_…" I say through gritted teeth.

"Won't find any gods here," the man insists.

I frown, then turn towards the elevator, calling to Arthur to follow.

The man at the front desk doesn't even notice.

Arthur stumbles into the elevator, still looking around in memorization.

I look around for the familiar key slot that a card was supposed to go into that took you to the 600th floor.

There wasn't one.

What was going on?

"Mr. Weasley?" I ask.

He's mumbling to himself, pushing different buttons, watching them light up, fascinated.

"Mr. Weasley!"

He looks up, startled.

"Can we check somewhere else?"

He looks around the elevator. "Yes, of course."

I tell him of another place, and we appear in front of an apartment building.

Without waiting, I throw open the door and sprint up the steps.

At this point, literally all I want is my mommy, no joke.

I knock on her door.

The person who opens the door isn't my mom. Or Paul.

An old woman stands in her bathrobe. "Hello? How may I help you?"

My confusion is probably evident on my face. "Uh, I'm looking for Sally Jackson?"

The woman frowns. "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong place. I've lived here for thirty years. No Sally Jackson. Sorry."

"Thanks anyway," I say, but the panic escapes through my voice.

She nods, and closes the door, obviously not caring.

Mr. Weasley finally catches up with me, panting.

I turn to him. "Can we check one more place, then I promise I'll go home with you?"

He seems to want to say no, but he hears the desperation in my voice and nods. "One more."

I describe it to him.

In seconds we stand on Half-Blood Hill.

I run down into the valley, looking around me.

Standing in the middle of strawberry fields, I cry out and fall to my knees, looking around me.

There isn't any cabins, no arena, no Big House.

Camp Half-Blood doesn't exist.

BARTY

I have never hated anyone more than Percy Jackson. Nothing will stop me from killing him when I find him.

The Dark Lord has changed my mission. Slightly. I will still go to Hogwarts and make sure Potter gets into the Tournament, but I am also to kill Jackson, and make it look like some sort of accident.

Drown him? Send trolls after him?

I don't know yet.

As I sit alone, I content myself with thoughts of slowly torturing Percy Jackson. Having him beg me to stop as his blood runs.

I drift off with a smile on my face.

But, just like promised, Jackson haunts my dreams.

_I watch as he slices through an entire army, escaping without a scratch._

_When the army is gone, he stands before me, glaring so hard I want to whimper. Then he smiles, but that makes it worse._

_"__Barty Crouch," he hisses. _

_I don't feel like doing anything but screaming. He holds my wand that he stole in his hand._

_In a last attempt, I lunge towards my wand, but he easily sidesteps and drives his foot into my stomach, knocking out all my air._

_I gasp on the floor, clutching my stomach, and black and blue stars dance before my eyes._

_"__That's the thing about wizards," Percy chuckles, his voice seems as evil as the Dark Lord's. "Once they lose their wands, they are useless."_

_Useless._

I start awake, and the moonlight still shines through the window.

I realize that I have a job to do.

As I prepare to leave, Percy Jackson's words echo in my head.

_Once they lose their wands, they are useless…_

When I get ahold of him… he _will_ be dead.

**i am so sorry if this is awful**

**at least i tried!**

**next chapter will be better, promise!**

**Adieu**


	6. Chapter 6

**hey**

**there are a few questions that i saw that i want to clear up real quick**

**i thought i answered this last chapter but maybe not? the reason he told them he was 16 was because he was lying to try to cover up as much of his identity as possible. i'll add more to that this chapter. **

**and yes, he went into the HP universe. he doesn't know ****_how _****yet (and no it wasn't Athena, she only tried to warn him in order to save her daughter from pain), but you'll find out later. he still has his water-controlling abilities, but the gods, demigods, and monsters or whatever aren't there. Percy comes from another (demigod) universe and he's basically more powerful than wizards (because he's frickin' half god!) but he learns to conceal who he is.**

**YAY PERCY MEETS THE WEASLEY'S YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!**

**im weird.**

**now read and sorry for long A/N**

CHAPTER SIX~PERCY

I had told them I wasn't insane.

But I'm really not sure anymore.

Defeat Kronos? No problem! One chopped-up Titan, comin' up!

Fight a few dozen giants? Piece of blue cake!

This though? Standing where I knew my home was, yet looking around at the empty fields.

No. I'm breaking down. I feel like I'm collapsing in on myself.

This was my home. Where had it gone?

And Annabeth… Annabeth?

My head snaps up and a strangled cry escapes my mouth. "Annabeth!"

I barely feel the tears escaping my eyes.

As I fall to the ground, hyperventilating, crying, I hear Arthur call out to me, and somewhere in me I feel bad for making him run after me.

But everything I'd ever done, every powerful or awesome thing I'd did had been with someone. Mostly Annabeth.

What was going on? Annabeth was real.

_Real… real…_

Was she?

As I sob, I stick to memories, the feel of her in my arms, the memory of her lips moving in sync with mine. That was real.

The way she'd laugh. The way she'd smirk at me when I did something stupid. The way she looked when fighting: determined, powerful.

She was my Wise Girl. She had to be real.

Where was she then? She should be here.

I'm curled into a ball, sobbing hard, sniffing, and frankly, feeling worse than ever.

I would take Tartarus over this. In a heartbeat. What'd I done to deserve this nightmare? I'd lost people before. I knew the feeling of loss.

This was different. This was emptiness. This was being completely alone. I was nothing anymore. I was worth nothing, was nothing, without my family, without my home.

If they were gone forever, so was I, if not in body, then in spirit.

I rolled over onto my other side, moaning, clutching my chest like I'd been stabbed.

I wish I had been. I would be better than this. Better than being alone.

Through my jeans, I feel something poke. I reach in and wrap my fingers around Riptide. I sit up, looking at my familiar pen in awe.

I uncap it and it grows into a sword. Watching it, wiping away my tears, I smile weakly. Standing up and swinging it, a laugh escapes my lips.

It's real. The demigod world isn't something of my imagination.

"Percy!" Arthur finally catches up. He sees Riptide and frowns. "Why do you have a sword?"

He looks up and sees my face. His frown melts away when he sees the pain on my face. He looks around. "You live on a strawberry farm?"

And the pain hits me again like a tidal wave: sudden and deadly.

My sword slips from my hands and my knees feel weak. I run my hands through my hair and clutch my fingers around the roots, my breaths coming in short gasps. "Mr. Weasley…" I manage. "Please… get me out of…" I fall to my knees for the second time today.

I'm begging him to understand. Maybe I'll be better when I'm away from this empty field.

I feel him grab my arm and I feel the sensation of being pulled and pushed. My tears blind me and my chest feels tight.

I can't see, but I feel a burst of warm air, and a woman cries out: "Oh my! Arthur who–"

Another cry pushes its way out of my mouth, and I collapse and curl into a ball on the ground.

"Bloody hell!" a different voice.

"Who's that?" another voice I don't know, the words soft.

I know that other people are talking and shouting, but the feeling, oh the feeling, of being alone. Everything I've ever done was with someone else.

The great Percy Jackson had been stripped down to nothing.

And you know what? I don't even care anymore.

If Annabeth, my mom, Grover, Paul, Rachel, the Seven… if they weren't real, then I didn't want to be either.

I was gasping for breath now, my surroundings completely gone. I clutch at my throat and I feel my Camp Half-Blood necklace.

Real. Real. Real.

It's real.

Where am I then?

I don't have any strength left. No motivation to move, so I just sob, rolling onto my back, my head hitting the floorboards. My hands cover my face and the tears run constantly, but silently.

"Sweetheart?" I hear a voice ask. A motherly tone, comforting in just the right way.

My eyes snap open. "Mom?!"

Instead I see a kindly-looking older woman, with the same graying red hair as Arthur. She looks very concerned, and very upset, as if her own child is suffering.

"No, dear," she says. She kneels down next to me. "I'm sorry."

I will myself to be strong, for my own mother, wherever she is. For Annabeth. I bite my lip, wipe my face, and sigh.

I will try and be myself. To show these people I'm not insane or whatever.

But until I'm home, I won't be happy.

HARRY

I was sitting on the couch when they appeared.

Mr. Weasley appeared out of nowhere, gripping the shoulder of a boy.

The boy was sobbing, shaking, and tears ran all the way down his face, down his arms. His every cry was laced with pure pain of loss.

And I recognized him. It was Percy Jackson.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Weasley had heard the sobs and come running. "Arthur who–" she spotted Percy and gasped, her hand coming to her mouth to cover it in her shock.

Now I watch, not sure what to do.

Ron comes charging down the stairs, followed by Hermione, Ginny, and the twins.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yells.

"Who's that?" Ginny whispers and I can barely hear it behind the noise of the sobs.

The thing is, Percy looks like a tough guy. The guy is all muscle, and is obviously tall, though he's on the ground at the moment. He looks built for battle and physical labor.

Yet his sobs fill me with the worst feeling. They make my stomach turn and I want him to stop. It's such a horrible sound.

I can see Mrs. Weasley trying her very best not to break down in tears herself. She steps closer and says softly, "Sweetheart?"

Immediately, Percy's head snaps up, he sits up, and looks around. "Mom?!" his voice is strangled and hoarse.

The sound is so filled with suffering that I want nothing but to leave the room. I can't do anything to help him.

Mrs. Weasley kneels down next to him. "No, dear. I'm sorry."

Mrs. Weasley holds her arms open and I start slightly when he all but pounces into her arms.

If he wasn't in so much pain, I'd say the scene was on odd one. Percy was much, much bigger than Mrs. Weasley. Yet her arms wrapped around him and she held him and she just rubbed his back soothingly.

I felt a tug on my arm. I look to see Hermione. "Come _on_, Harry!" she hisses, nodding towards the stairs.

Once we're in Ron's room, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and I, we sit in silence for a long time.

After a while, Ron says, "They're right about him being insane."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione smacks him on the arm. Not playfully. "He's obviously in pain."

How good a guy look so powerful and be so broken? It didn't make sense.

Hermione looked upset. "I just hope he's okay. I've read about people who are mentally unwell. He could just be fragile, especially if you mention family or old friends around him."

"Hermione," Ginny is still whispering. "No offense, but I'm not sure books can do anything to help him. He just needs a family. Friends. We need to help him out."

"So is he insane or not?" Ron again. "And I'm not trying to be mean I just want to know whether or not the bloke is gonna cry all the time."

"Well I hope I won't," I hear a voice at the door.

We all spin to see Percy smiling a cocky side grin. It's a face that would drive girls crazy, if not for his eyes circled in red, from crying.

"Are you okay?" Hermione stands up, looking concerned.

"Yup," Percy twirls his wand between his fingers. "I've been… worse…" his voice starts to get distant, before he quickly looks at us, the smile returning to his face. "So who are you guys?"

The question sounds off. He's not really asking. Possibly because he already knows?

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione holds out her hand.

"Hey, Hermione," he takes her hand, shaking it firmly.

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny smiles at him encouragingly, also shaking his hand.

"Pleasure," Percy replies.

"Harry. Harry Potter," I introduce myself.

I watch his face for the familiar light of recognition after hearing my name, but he just nods, shaking my hand as well.

"Ron Weasley," Ron's voice isn't really friendly. Maybe he's sticking to his Death Eater theory.

"I'm honored to meet you guys," Percy sounds genuine.

Percy plops down on the bed, leaning back against the wall. "So, Harry, I heard that you defeated Moldy-warts as a baby. Is that true or false?"

I blink. "Who?"

He gives a small laugh. "Moldy-warts. Voldemort?" The Weasleys and Hermione wince. "Don't you know him?"

"Yeah, we know who you're talking about," I say. Then I start to laugh. "Wait, did you call him _moldy warts_?"

Percy shrugs. "What? With a name like 'Voldemort', he's just asking for it."

Hermione frowns disapprovingly, but says nothing.

Percy notices Ginny, who still looks concerned. "Look, I want to apologize. I promise you I'm not mentally unstable. I've been hurt before, but I'm okay now. Just pretend I'm a normal person and you didn't see me like… _that_. It's not like a daily thing. I've _never_ been that upset before, and I'm fine now. I swear it on the River Styx that I'm not insane."

He seems to be listening for something. After a moment, he looks at us. "Did you guys hear thunder?"

We all listen.

"I didn't," Hermione says, still listening.

"Oh," he sounds disappointed. He shakes his head, then looks up again. "You guys excited for the Triwizard Tournament?"

We all frown.

"What's that?" Ron asks.

"Wait, that's not this year?" Percy also seems confused. "Then never mind. So tell me about yourselves."

It turns out, Percy's really easy to talk to. He seems like a decent person, and he has a good sense of humor. The only problem is, in an hour, Hermione and Ginny were already blushing and swooning over him.

But even though he seems happy, I noticed that the troublemaker grin, that was almost always present on his face, never– not even once –reached his eyes.

At dinner, he had a very long talk with Charlie about dragons, and he was told he would sleep in our room.

When I came back from the bathroom, Hermione was talking to Percy about how excited she was for school to start.

"You sound just like my girlfriend!" he laughs. "She loves school." He pretends to be disgusted. "And _learning_."

Hermione laughs. "I think you'll like Hogwarts!"

"Not if I have to learn anything!" Percy insists. "Gods, that's all Annabeth ever talks about these days. Exams, studying, whatever the Hades King Tut ate for breakfast on his birthday!"

Hermione laughs again, but Ron, who'd just entered the room, asked, "Who's Annabeth?"

I could tell he didn't like how close Hermione was sitting to Percy, even if it was a friendly distance.

Percy's face darkens for a half second, and the smile melts off his face, before returning hastily. His smile almost looks forced by now. "Annabeth's my… girlfriend." He looks down at my hands. "She was going to be my fiancée soon."

"Aww," Ginny says quietly, but Ron simply says skeptically, "And you're sixteen?"

Percy looks at him. "I was going to ask her once we went to college."

"Oh," Ron says. After a short pause: "What's college?"

Hermione has a questioning look on her face. "Wait… you went to Muggle school? Do you even know magic?"

Percy frowns. "I was banned from magic for a while. So no, I didn't do magic." He shrugs. "Until Moldy-warts dragged me into this mess."

He doesn't sound very angry, just upset to be in "this mess."

"Voldemort's back?" I gasp.

He looks at me, confused. "What?" He seems to be thinking hard, trying to recall something. "Oh, no." he corrects. "No, no, um…" he rubs the back of his neck. "I shouldn't have said that."

Mrs. Weasley comes in, "Okay, you all, off to bed! Percy, dear, will you be okay on the floor? I'm sure Ron will– Ron give Percy your bed –yes, girls off to your own room now! Chop, chop!"

The girls are gone, and Mrs. Weasley's trying to convince Percy to take Ron's bed, and Ron's trying to convince his mother that he's not giving up his bed.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Percy says. "Seriously, I have slept in worse places! Ron needs his beauty sleep!" Percy smirks at Ron, and I chuckle at Ron's scowl. I can tell he's still mad about Hermione.

"Okay, if you're sure, dear," Mrs. Weasley still seems very concerned for Percy, who doesn't even look upset anymore.

"One thousand percent," he reassures.

"Well, get to bed," she directs her voice at Ron and I.

She leaves with a last, sympathetic look at Percy.

I can tell Ron isn't in the mood to talk to Percy, so we all just settle down.

Ron starts to snore within moments, but I lay awake, excited for tomorrow. I feel like I'm going back home.

As I drift off, I can swear I hear sobbing coming from Percy's part of the room.

PERCY

In the bathroom, there'd been a mirror. When I'd seen myself in the mirror, I'd literally dropped the bar of soap.

I looked sixteen again. I wasn't as tall, and I just looked younger.

This nightmare was getting worse.

First, my family and home disappeared, and now I was aging backwards. Oh gods.

I want to wake up in Cabin Three. And have this all be a dream.

**i wanted him to be in the same year as Harry and them, but i wanted him to have gone to Tartarus and all, so i had to do something about his age and all that so don't kill me for making him 16 again!**

**i don't really like fanfictions where Percy suffers from nightmares and PTSD so he won't have super bad nightmares and suddenly have cuts opening on his body or whatever**

**i love Percy too much to have him be in pain, so he'll be okay, i promise i won't make him cry a lot and the other stuff he did in this chapter**

**review?**

**_ONE LAST THING_: i will NEVER EVER put Percy with anyone but Annabeth (except maybe Nico, but that was before Solangelo) **

**Au Revoir.**


	7. Chapter 7

**super short chapter, but the next one will be much longer**

CHAPTER SEVEN~PERCY

So far today I'd run through a brick wall, got my pinky toe stepped on (owie!), and wrestled through crowds in order to get onto the Warty Hogs Expresso.

"I'm so glad we found a compartment," Hermione says, heaving her trunk into the rack.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry are all sitting down, and they look up at me, still standing.

"You gonna sit, mate?" Harry asks.

I shake my head. "Bathroom. Or whatever you call it in England." I disappear out the door.

In reality, I was getting tired of them talking about things I didn't understand. I really just wanted to go home.

Finding an empty compartment, I throw my legs up onto the seat, and lean my head back against the window and close my eyes.

"Oi! Get out of my apartment, maniac," a voice sneers at me.

I open my eyes slowly to a tallish boy with white-blond hair, sickly pale skin, and robes that are silver and green.

Annabeth had ranted about Malfoy lots of times. I could have lots of fun messing with him.

I let a grin that would soon land me in an asylum spread on my face, and when I speak, my voice comes out just the right mix of low, deadly, and powerful. "I have plenty enough enemies, Draco Malfoy, but–" I shrug. "–you can join the list."

I can see Malfoy struggle to keep his cool, especially in front of his friends. "We can be allies or enemies. But I wouldn't make a very easy target."

I stand up, towering over him and give a creepy-sounding chuckle. "You know what? Neither would I."

I make motion to move past him, and he holds his hand up. "Where you going? We're not done talking, Jackson."

"I say we are," I growl.

"I say we aren't," he snaps.

I just laugh at him. Then I lower my voice and say, so only Malfoy can hear. "The Dark Lord is angry with your father. I wouldn't suggest you start giving _me_ orders any time soon."

The look on his face was priceless. Complete horror crossed his features.

"Um, I'm sorry," he says in a rush. "Forgive m-me."

And he's gone, his goons trailing after him.

I close my eyes, only to be interrupted again by the compartment sliding open.

"What the _hell_ did you do to Malfoy? Why'd he scram?"

I open my eyes and grin (a real one) at the Weasley twins. "That's my secret. What're you guys up to?"

George (I think) shrugs. "We were going to trick some first-years into thinking the uniform changed."

"Lame," I reply.

Fred (or George) smiles. "Or blow up the toilets."

"Done," I wave it off.

George looks impressed. "Or give some owl droppings to the Prefects carriage."

"Better," I consider.

Fred slides into the seat across from me, quickly followed by George. "Or we could enchant all the candy to make people sick."

I think about it, before shaking my head. "My specialty is blowing things up. Does that help with anything? And no, not toilets, because, like I said, already done."

Fred and George glance at each other, then back at me.

George begins. "You know what, mate?"

Fred cuts in. "You might just be our new partner-in-crime."

I smirk. "Breaking rules is my specialty."

"I thought you said that blowing things up are your specialty," Fred smiles, with a smug grin.

I take out my wand and twirl it in my hands. "I have _two_ specialties."

MALFOY

I manage to keep calm in front of Jackson.

But then he leans down and whispers: "The Dark Lord is angry with your father. I wouldn't suggest you start giving me orders any time soon."

I manage to ditch Crabbe and Goyle somewhere, and finally spot the compartment where, any other day, I wouldn't go into willingly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Potter stands up, already reaching for his wand.

"Your little friend," I say, anger and fear weaving in and out of my voice. "_Jackson_… well, he's a Death Eater."

"And tell me why the hell we'd believe you? You could be a Death Eater, too, for all we know," Potter growls. "Where is he? What'd you do to him?"

"Nothing!" I say quickly. "I swear it! He threatened me! I want to know where he's from and how he has the nerve to try and intimidate my family!" I'm yelling by now.

The three are shocked. Very, very shocked.

I sigh, pinch the bridge of my nose, and lean against the closed door of the compartment. "I want to know who he is."

"Okay, Malfoy, that's quite enough!" Hermione's half-shouting voice startles me. "What do you want? I know you don't care about any of this. What do you want? Really?"

"Tell me anything suspicious about him!" I retort. I fumble around in my pockets. "Come on, Granger." I pull out a sack of Galleons. "I'll pay you."

JASON

I was looking forward to the weekend.

My week had started out with a huge History exam on Monday, a hydra attack Tuesday, a fever on Wednesday, and an angry Hypnos on Thursday. It was Friday, and I was heading to Camp Half-Blood.

I had no idea of what bad condition the place was in.

As I walk by the cabins, I hear sobbing coming from somewhere. No one walks around the camp and except the crying, everything is silent.

Eventually, I pinpoint the sobbing to Cabin Three.

With a burst of adrenaline, fear coursing through my veins, I sprint forward and throw open the door.

The scene is heartbreaking.

A few people are searching the room, worried. A few other people are crying. Piper and Hazel both are weeping, arms wrapped around Annabeth.

Annabeth sobs on the floor, loudest of all. Clutching a paper in her hand. Her words are incoherent, but I can tell she's saying something about…

Wait, what?

Harry Potter?

**review? **

**and i really like the idea of Percy and the Weasley twins being friends/partners-in-crime, thnx whoever suggested that sorry i can't remember :/**

****bon voyage****


	8. Chapter 8

**hi.**

**fairly long chapter to make up for the nearly two weeks of no updating :( (IT'S LIKE 3000 WORDS *GASP*)**

**hope u enjoy!**

**srry for any mistakes i edited it i promise!**

CHAPTER EIGHT~JASON

Still shocked, I glance around the room. No Percy.

That would explain it.

Piper rubs Annabeth's back comfortingly. She reaches over and tries to take the paper from Annabeth's clenched hands, but Annabeth jerks it away.

"Annabeth?" Piper says gently. "What's on the paper?"

Annabeth gives a short gasping sob, but drops the paper into Piper's lap and then put her head in her hands, returning to her crying.

Piper looks confused. She glances up and sees me. She gets to her feet and approaches me.

"What does this mean?" she hands me the paper. "Do you know?"

I draw my eyes away from the wrecked Annabeth and look at the paper in my hands:

_You will never find him._

Below the message was a vaguely familiar symbol. I squint, trying to recall where I'd seen it before.

It was a triangle with three equal sides. In its center was a circle and going down the middle of this was a straight line.

"Why the Hades would they…" Annabeth stutters. "_Harry Potter_…"

It dawns on me: The Deathly Hallows symbol.

Why is it on this sheet?

PERCY

"So, you're plan is to do _what_ to the food?" I stare around a small room, about the size of a compartment, with no seats. A parked cart, loaded with candy and food, stands before us. The room's dark, and the twins stand behind me, mischievous smiles in place, easy to see even in the dim light.

"We have–" George begins.

"–a brilliant plan." Fred continues.

"If everyone who eats the candy gets sick–"

"–which is basically the majority of the school–"

"–they'll have to cancel the first day."

I immediately grin. "That's genius."

"We know," they say in unison.

"So what're we going to put on them? A spell or something?"

"We have something better." Fred holds something up.

"By far." George points to it.

I look at it, squinting because of the lack of light. Once I could see the letters, my dyslexia prevented me from actually reading it. "What the Hades does that say?"

"It's a new thing we developed," George explains.

"'Spewing Spray,'" Fred continues.

"Anything you put it on–"

"–will immediately turn into something–"

Then they finish together: "–that you _won't_ want to eat."

I snatch the bottle, studying it, trying not to think about the Stoll brothers. "How do you know it works?"

"Because," Fred takes the bottle back.

"We tested it," George finishes. He takes out a few more bottles.

"We should probably get started," I say, taking a bottle from George. Eyeing the wrapper-covered food, I ask another question. "What about the wrappers?"

"You really think that we didn't think of that, mate?" George snorts.

"This," Fred shakes the bottle, "will go right through the wrappers."

"I'll admit," I say with a smirk, "I'm impressed."

"You should be," they say in unison, twin looks of smug pride plastered on their faces.

I laugh, and watch as George approaches the trolley. He uncaps the bottle, revealing one of those things on squirt bottles… you know what I mean.

Fred joins him, spraying on the opposite side of the cart. I also crouch down and uncap my Spewing Spray.

As we work, I ask, "Can't the nurse at the school cure colds and stuff?"

"Thought of that too!" Fred chimes.

"You're definitely underestimating us, mate," George adds.

"Sorry, sorry," I say, chuckling.

It takes about ten minutes to cover the entire trolley, as thoroughly as possible (fine, I snagged some blue candy before it was sprayed) and we look around the small room one last time.

As we exit, I say, "And this room was unlocked?"

"Nope," Fred says, as casually as if he'd replied with a "yeah".

"Should I ask?" I roll my eyes.

"Nope," George copies his brother.

Glancing around at the empty hallways, I suddenly remember Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I'll catch you later, guys."

George grins. "Nice doing business with you."

"Even though you didn't do anything," Fred adds.

"Oh, shut up," I say. "I was more use than you might think."

They both look at me with questioning expressions.

I shrug. "Notice how there's no one here? I put a charm on this hallway to warn us when people were coming near."

The twins look impressed. "Nice. Which charm?" Fred asks.

"_Cave Inimicum_."

"Smart move, mate."

I nod, grinning smugly, twirling my wand between my fingers. "The spell should fade on its own. I'll catch you guys later."

"See yuh."

"Bye."

I set off down the hall, searching for Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

HERMIONE

Ever since I heard the name "Percy Jackson" I'd been trying to figure out where I'd heard that name before.

I know I have… but where?

We're sitting in our compartment, with Malfoy holding out the bag of coins.

Harry says: "You can't pay us for information!"

At the same time, Ron says: "How much is in there?"

"Malfoy, just get out!" Ron growls after a short pause. "If Percy's a Death Eater, then shouldn't you guys be friends, anyway?"

"He threatened me, Weasley, and I want to know why!" Malfoy snaps.

"How the bloody hell are we supposed to know?" Ron retorts.

"You lot are friends. He was staying at _your_ _house_… if you can call it that anyway."

"Shut up!"

"Can I join the party?" a smirking Percy appears in the doorway. He spots Malfoy and nods towards him. "Never mind. If _he's_ here, then it's not much of a party."

"Malfoy's leaving," Ron growls.

"No I'm–"

"Yes, you are," Percy's voice was final, and stern, as if he was giving orders.

"You're not going to scare me off, Jackson," Malfoy sneers.

In an instant, Percy's face changes, darkening, like a cloud passing over the sun. His eyes intensify until his gaze almost radiates power and his mouth hardens into a line. "You… are… _leaving_."

Malfoy scrambles from the room so fast that it was like Ron at lunchtime.

In less than a second, Percy's face returns to normal, and he turns to smile at us. "So how're you guys?"

We just stare at him.

He looks confused for a second, but then he laughs. "Oh. That was a trick I learned a while ago. If you scare off your enemies, then you don't have to bother yourself with the fight."

He sits down next to me and suddenly my heart is pounding rapidly. The salty smell of the sea radiates off of him.

"I want you guys to know that I'm not a Death Eater," Percy assures us with mock-seriousness. He treats the entire situation like a joke.

I frown. Despite how hilarious and cute Percy is… I mean… might be… the war is a serious matter. Death Eaters aren't a joke. "This isn't funny, Percy. Wars aren't things to laugh at."

Percy raises an eyebrow at me. "You think I don't know that?"

"Well," I defend, blushing, sputtering. "You're acting like Death Eaters and You-Know-Who are funny or a joke or something."

Percy frowns. "I think it's funny that someone would think _I'm_ a Death Eater. I don't think death is funny." He gave an almost cold smile. "There's a difference, you know."

"What did you do to Malfoy?" Harry sounds curious.

Percy shrugs. "I've read about his family. People think I'm a Death Eater. So I just scared him off… using my resources."

"You're smarter–" I start to say.

"Then I look?" he interrupts with a lop-sided grin that makes my heart beat even faster. "I get that a lot."

We continue to make conversation. I try to ask him about his family and friends, but every time I ask him a personal question, he not-too-subtly redirects the conversation somewhere else.

At one point, Ron tells the story of the time he started to throw up slugs.

"They called her a Mudblood so–"

Percy interrupts. "Mudblood?"

"You don't know what that is?" Ron raises an eyebrow.

Percy looks like he's trying to remember something. "I've heard it somewhere…"

"Mudblood is a nasty term for someone who is from a Muggle family," Harry explains. "We don't think it matters much, but Slytherin really care about that kind of stuff. For example, I'm a half-blood, but Ron's a–"

A look of astonishment possesses Percy's face almost instantly. "You're a _half-blood_?" He looks almost… excited?

Harry frowns, confused. "Uh, yeah…?"

Percy grins. "Who's your parent, then?"

Harry blinks. "Uh, my parents are dead."

Percy develops a look of befuddlement. "Wait what? Then why did you say you were a demi–"

The compartment door slides open, cutting him off.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" a voice asks.

"Sure," Harry stands. He buys us a giant stack of Cauldron Cakes to share.

When the door shuts again, I realize that Percy is trying not to laugh.

"What is it?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, grinning. "I wouldn't suggest you eat those."

"What?" Ron looks up, a Cauldron Cake sticking out of his mouth. "Why not?"

"Fred and George–"

The Cauldron Cake flies out of Ron's mouth. As he wipes his tongue off as if it's infected, he sputters, "'Nuff said. I'm _not_ eating those."

As the day drags on, a few of our friends stop in to visit: Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas (both of who were almost fascinated by Percy and the possibility he might've escaped You-Know-You). Neville Longbottom also stopped by. At first, it was clear Percy intimidated him, but after a few minutes of conversation, Neville all but worshipped him.

Harry, Neville, and Ron soon discover that Percy doesn't play Quidditch, and set off on a mission to make him understand its magnificence. Me, finding no interest in the subject, gladly picks up _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 _(a wonderful book, by the way, I highly suggest it).

I'm not listening to the conversation, but Malfoy is suddenly back at the door, joined again by his lackeys and his pride. "For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," says Harry coolly.

"Weasley… what is _that_?" Malfoy points to Pigwidgeon's cage, covered in Ron's moldy (and frankly _hideous_) dress robes.

Ron attempts to shove away the robes, but Malfoy grabs hold of them.

I nudge Percy. "_Do something_!" I hiss.

Percy looks like he's watching a movie. I wouldn't be surprised if he took out some popcorn. His eyes are glued to the scene, watching it as if thinking: _this is aboutta get real good._

He starts slightly when I elbow him, and looks at me, his expression asking _what the hell am I supposed to do?_

"Just do something!" I glare at him.

"Look at this!" Malfoy was showing Crabbe and Goyle the dress robes. "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean– they were very fashionable in about 1890…"

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron snaps, his face an impressive shade of crimson. He snatches back the robes.

Malfoy howls with sardonic laughter, and Crabbe and Goyle guffaw stupidly.

"Percy!" I whisper angrily to the older boy next to me. "Come on!"

Percy is staring at Malfoy as if he's a fascinating object. Why?

"What are you doing?" I quietly ask Percy, but I receive no response.

Percy's lips twitch as he almost smiles, still staring at Malfoy. Then his face is suddenly covered with something… _realization_?!

"So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" Ron snaps.

"_Are you going to enter?_" Malfoy repeats with growing aggravation. "I suppose _you_ will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

Done with both Malfoy and Percy, I sigh. "Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," I say testily.

A gleeful smile overtakes his expression. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he sounds delighted. "You've got a father and a brother at the Ministry–"

Percy finally interrupts. "You're planning to enter the Tournament?" he raises an eyebrow. "You do know you have to be seventh year, right?" his voice is smug.

Malfoy sputters. "Uh, what? I mean…"

"Just leave," Percy doesn't sound demanding, just overwhelmingly bored. "Before I decide I want to destroy you."

Malfoy smirks. "I'd like to see you try."

Percy's wand is twirling between his fingers suddenly, as if it appeared from nowhere. "Do you want your remains to be found, or not?" he asks the question as if he was asking: "do you want mustard with that?"

Malfoy sneers to hide his terror. He turns to Ron. "But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…" Malfoy turns, laughing, and walks away with Crabbe and Goyle.

Ron gets to his feet and slams the compartment door so hard that the glass shatters.

"_Ron_!" I scold reproachfully. "_Reparo_!"

The glass shards become one pane again and Ron starts to rant.

"Well… making it look like he knows everything and we don't…" snarls Ron. "'_Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry_'… Dad could've got a promotion any time… he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," I say quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron–"

I'm interrupted by Percy getting to his feet and exiting so swiftly I don't have time to protest. I consider following him, but Ron already seems enraged. Ditching him wouldn't improve his mood.

PERCY

As Malfoy argued with the trio, I sensed something about him that I hadn't before.

Ever since the Giant War, I've been working on how to control the Mist, and about sensing auras. Annabeth has also been showing me more about reading people's body language. (Apparently these are all survival skills. Whatever.)

When I finally figure out what it is, I feel overwhelmingly smug.

When Malfoy leaves, I get up to follow him.

Him and his "friends" enter a compartment, and I stride up to it, throwing open the door.

Malfoy looks up with a sneer in place, then seeing it's me, his expression crumples. "What do you want?" his voice is pretty much monotone in attempt to keep it from shaking.

I lean against the doorframe casually. "I know your secret."

Malfoy looks confused. "What secret?"

I laugh. "I know you like Hermione."

Malfoy's face flushes with anger and embarrassment. "_I do not_!" he screams. "She is a filthy _Mudblood_!"

"Whatever you say, Malfoy," I shrug. "But I can tell you want her attention."

"Shut the hell up," Malfoy reaches for his wand. "Or I'm going to kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," I mock him from earlier.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" he yells.

"_Protego_," I say lazily.

His spells bounces off my shield, useless.

"If you'll excuse me," I say. "I need to search for food now."

"Backing off from a fight, Jackson?" Malfoy challenges.

"Nah," I yawn. "Just bored."

I turn and walk back into the hallway. I head back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione's compartment, and the rest of the trip is spent dealing with Ron's bad mood.

At one point, we change into robes (why in Hades are these necessary?) and as we exit the train, thunder roars overhead.

Immediately I think of Zeus, and then I start to think of home… then the empty fields…

I block my mind and follow Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville towards a bunch of carriages lined up as far as the eye can see.

The horses that pull the carriages are black skeletal creatures with bat-like wings. I scratch my head, trying to remember what they're called. They have a sort of ghostly appearance.

"Percy!" Harry calls. "Are you coming?

_My lord_. A voice speaks in my head. _It has been centuries since a descendant of our master has walked these lands. Welcome._

The animal pulling the carriage that my friends are in nods in my direction.

"Thank you," I say, approaching the beast and reaching my hand out to pet his head.

_Many will welcome you. The sea people will be especially overjoyed at your coming, sir._

"Percy!" Harry calls again.

He comes around the side of the carriage and spots me.

He looks confused. "What are you doing?"

"Petting–"

_Lord, he cannot see us. We are Thestrals. Only those who have seen death can see us._

"I mean…" I say. "Er… I was just looking for a place to pee."

Nice thinking, Percy. Annabeth would've slapped me.

Harry just looks more confused. "There was a bathroom on the train, you know."

"Oh…" think, Percy! "Well I prefer peeing in the wild! Reminds me of the good old days growin' up in the jungle." I beat my chest for effect.

Harry looks at me like I told him to drop the Beluga and come square dance. "Okay… well join us when you're done… peeing…" he turns to walk back to the carriage, muttering. "Americans are weird."

_Master, you should get going. _

"Okay," I pet the Thestral again. "And thanks! Also, you don't need to call me master. The name's Percy."

* * *

I peer out the window of the carriage at the approaching castle.

It's lit up and sitting on a hill, surrounded by a lake.

Immediately I think of Annabeth and how she would've loved to be here so much more than I do.

With a surge of nauseating homesickness, I pull my gaze from the window and double over in physical pain.

"Percy?" Hermione asks worriedly.

"I'm fine," I say, but the emptiness in my chest is growing. I need Annabeth… Mom… _anyone_… don't leave me alone in this…

"Are you sure?" Ron questions.

"Just talk about something, please!" I gasp. "Anything!"

"Um, about what? Why?" Ron asks.

"Quidditch!" I wheeze, sucking in air through gritted teeth. "Talk about it. Please!"

Immediately Ron dives into a rant/speech about Quidditch. I direct my attention to him, letting his talk of sports wash away the thoughts of home.

Before I know it, I stand before Professor McGonagall, alone.

"Since we are accepting you into Hogwarts directly into the fourth year, you will be sorted into one of the four houses. I'm assuming you know what they are?"

"Yup," I pop the "p".

I can tell she tries to hide her disapproval in me (all ready, gods. And she barely knows me!).

"I hope, if you are in my house that is, I will not hear of any trouble from you?"

I bite my lip. "Uh, I hope not, ma'am."

She raises an eyebrow and turns. "Follow me, Mr. Jackson."

The doors open and we enter.

Every single eye in the room is on me. Gods, am I _that_ bad-looking?

Whispering and giggling echoes around the hall as I follow McGonagall forward.

The ceiling is clouded and dark, with the occasional flash of lightning. It's mesmerizing.

She directs me onto an old stool at the front of the Hall. I plop down on the seat, and she places the sorting hat on my head.

_Well, well, Percy Jackson. I haven't seen someone like you in many, many years._

**okay i'm going to explain myself:**

**in an interview JK Rowling said the reason Malfoy always picks on Hermione for her parentage (over other Muggleborns i mean) is because he kinda has a thing for her ;)**

**no, this is not a Dramione fanfic, so no they won't be together, but i thought i might add that part in for drama**

**sorry for another cliffhanger (yet another *sigh*)**

**see you hopefully soon!**

**WARNING: next chapter might not be terribly long.**

_**I NEED U GUYS TO REVIEW AND TELL ME WHICH HOUSE PERCY SHOULD BE IN, JUST SO I HAVE SOME EXTRA OPINIONS WHILE WRITING... THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU ALL!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Read my rant:**

**okay so i spent a loooooooooooong time thinking about Percy's house. the majority seems to think Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, as do I. so, i have come to a compromise which i hope you guys will be okay with. I put him in one house (for reasons you will find out later), but he will hang out with a lot of people in the other house.**

**I HATE CLICHES SO TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THIS STORY (to the best of my ability) ****WILL NOT**** BE CLICHE. NO MATTER WHAT.**

**anyway it's VERY short (like 1k+ words), but i'll update soon. love you all**

_PREVIOUSLY_

_Well, well, Percy Jackson. I haven't seen someone like you in many, many years._

CHAPTER NINE~PERCY

_Wait, what?_ I immediately think. _Someone like me? A demigod?_ My heart beats faster. Maybe I'm not alone.

_Oh, no. You're quite alone. Pretty much doomed._ The Hat assures, crushing my hopes.

_Am I stuck here forever? Please say no!_

_That is not your choice, Perseus. Maybe your friends will find you, or you'll find them. It's Fate._

_I hate the Fates!_ I complain.

_Brave, I see,_ the Hat mumbles, and I realize it's sorting (ignore the pun) through my memories. G_ryffindor would suit you well._

_Now that you know my house, tell me how to get home!_ I demand.

_Loyal, however. Very loyal._ The Hat isn't even listening to me anymore. _Loyalty is your flaw. Your flaw that will one day prove fatal._

_Are you sorting me into a house or writing poetry?_ I snap. _Tell me how to get home! Please!_

_Despite the popular assumption_, the Hat continues, starting to aggravate me, _you are smart, though a little slow at times. Ravenclaw could work… but you would be found quite stupid among your housemates, so no._

_Well that's nice of you to say, _I think sarcastically. _Just go ahead, please. Continue to insult my intellect._

The Hat's "voice" almost seems to have a grave tone to it as it continues. _I see darkness in your heart, Perseus. However small, it exists. Slytherin could help you make the cleverness, the bit of darkness, grow. Make you powerful._

_Darkness, _I muse. _That doesn't sound pleasant. No thanks. I don't want–_

I gasp as an image appears before my eyes, as if I were actually there.

A tall man with raven black hair stands before me, his back facing me, with his sword pressed to the throat of another man. The man on the ground has blond hair, a purple T-shirt, glasses askew, and I see a gold sword lying on the ground a few feet away.

Jason.

"Hey!" I growl, drawing my sword to save Jason.

But I freeze when the black-haired man shifts. And I see his face.

Covered with nothing but fury, his expression stares down at Jason with the ferocity of a monster. His eyes are hurricanes of wrath.

A chill runs down my spine as I recognize him.

Orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. Bronze sword. Green eyes.

It's me.

Riptide falls out of my hand, but the Other-Riptide stays in Other-Percy's hand, at Jason's throat.

"_You killed her!_" I flinch back at the sound of my own voice being used with such ardent rage. Other-Percy's sword presses farther into Jason's neck, and a line of blood trails down from the sword.

"Percy!" Jason gasps. "Listen to me! _Please!_"

"_I WILL NOT LISTEN!_" Other-Percy bellows, eyes flashing.

Why can't I move?

A voice in my head speaks: _because this is you, Perseus_.

_No it's not! _I protest.

_Yes it is, _the Hat insists.

I'm about to debate when the next words out of Other-Percy's mouth makes the words get stuck in my throat.

"_You murdered Annabeth!_" Other-Percy screams, taking a moment to slash violently at Jason's arm, before pressing the tip to his neck again.

I am frozen. What is going on?

"_YOU KILLED HER!_" tears now join the fury on Other-Percy's face. "So _now_…" his voice drops, becoming deep, low, and threatening. "I'm going to kill you. Let these words be the last words you will ever hear."

In the back of my mind, I know I should probably do something. But I can feel the fury stirring in me. Annabeth…

With a last growl, Other-Percy hisses, "Be forever condemned, Jason Grace. You are nothing anymore." I watch in horror as Other-Percy stabs Jason, right through his heart. "_I hate you!_" Other-Percy yells, acrimony lacing through his voice.

I blink and it's gone: Other-Percy, Jason, the blood. I realize I'm still sitting on the stool, Sorting Hat over my head.

_Slytherin could give you power_, the Hat says. _You could get over your flaw of loyalty. And you would have the ability to be more powerful than even a son of Jupiter._

_No way in Hades do I want to be that_, I reply angrily.

_But Perseus, _the Hat is almost laughing at me. _That's who you are_.

_No. It's not me_, I protest. _It's what I could be_.

_I think you belong in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, Perseus,_ the Hat says my name, but he doesn't seem to really be talking to me anymore. _The problem is… your loyalty influences your bravery, and your bravery strengthens your loyalty. Both houses suit you._

_Then decide on one! I'm hungry!_ I snap.

But actually, for one of the very few times in my life, I'm not hungry. I'm just sick of this stupid Hat.

_Your loyalty is your flaw, would you like to meet others with a similar weakness? Or would you like to be among those as reckless and courageous as you, willing to go on adventures like no other?_

_I've had enough adventures like no other,_ I groan.

_Okay then, better be…_

_No, wait!_ I stop him. _I don't know, okay? Which house will help me get home?_

_Home is where the heart is._

_My heart is with my family!_ I cry.

_You must make new friends here, Perseus, or you will face troubles like no other._

_No one will replace my old friends_. _Ever._

_I didn't say that. But you need allies._

_Are there any other demigods in this world?_

_Only one. And he may not see you as a friend._

_Who? _A feeling rises in my chest. Hope.

_I suggest you stay at the Hog's Head Inn. I hear Hogsmeade is nice this time of year._

_What the Hades does that have to do with anything?_

_Now I believe we must assign you a house, yes?_

_Where's the other demigod?!_ I'm almost desperate.

_Fell into Tartarus for your girlfriend,_ the Hat mutters. _Well that'd be awkward if you two broke up._

_Um, what? _Was that humor?

_The majority of your actions can be described as both loyalty and bravery, Perseus, but you'd be brave without friends or family._

_For Zeus's sake just tell me where the demigod is!_

_Better be… _"GRYFFINDOR!"

I'm so angry that I feel as if I'm going to explode. He didn't tell me where the demigod is.

McGonagall pulls the hat off my head and I stumble towards the gold and red table, accompanied by clapping and cheering. Sliding in next to Harry and across from Hermione and Ron, Ron whispers to me. "What the bloody hell were you doing?! You were up there for hours!"

"It was only ten minutes, Ronald," scolds Hermione.

Ron scowls and seizes his knife and fork. "I'm hungry."

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. "I have only two words to say to you. _Tuck in_."

The empty golden plates covering the table instantly are filled with food. Ron and Harry reach hungrily for it, and Hermione helps herself to the nearest dishes.

I don't move. Suddenly, a thought occurs to me. What if this is like the Underworld food? If you eat it, you can't leave? Obviously I already had some of the food here, but… does that mean I'll never get home?

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," Ron says with his mouth full of mashed potato.

Not surprisingly, that doesn't improve my appetite.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," a voice says.

I turn and my eyes widen. A ghost?

"Holy Hades," the ghost says, his eyes falling on me. He looks overwhelmed and shocked. "It's Percy Jackson."

**review?**

**i wish i could've put him in both or all the houses or had the Hat shout "DIVERGENT" but i had to choose one. so he'll technically be in Gryffindor, but he's going to make friends with a lot of Hufflepuffs.**

**I just need to say something to Jules (guest)'s review: shhhhhh! stop giving spoliers :P ;)**

**Why do you think Nick recognized Percy? Will Annabeth find Percy soon? Review your guesses!**

**I READ ALL OF UR REVIEWS BTW AND IT LITERALLY IS AMAZHANG. LIKE MY MIND EXPLODES. THANK YOU.**

**ALSO I MADE AN INSTAGRAM FANDOM ACCOUNT IF ANY OF U GUYS HAVE ONE OF THOSE.**


	10. Chapter 10

**i owe you a longer and better chapter than the one i'm about to give you, but my holiday has been the opposite of relaxing. sadly, i have to return to school in two days, but i'm hoping to get another chapter up tomorrow or the following day.**

**there was a review that pointed out Percy was seeming too powerful, with mastering spells without practice and beating Voldemort and all. im srry about that. Percy is very powerful, but i promise i'm not going to exaggerate his abilities. the spells he did before were simple, and Voldemort was in a weakened state. Percy's future will not be as easy as it has been this past couple of days, i promise. whoever pointed this out to me, thank you so much. ten points to whatever house you're in!**

**long A/N. jeez.**

**just read the story now :'D**

CHAPTER TEN~PERCY

"You know me?" My eyes widen. "Have we met before?"

The ghost shakes his head, clearly astounded. "Haven't had the honor. I am Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the ghost bows. "Though Sir Nicholas is what many call me."

"It's Nearly Headless Nick," I realize out loud.

Nick looks offended, but instead says, "What are you doing here?"

"How did you know me?" I respond to his question with a question.

Nick glances at me, then my three friends. With an encouraging smile, he says, "That is a conversation for another time."

I want to protest when Harry interrupts. "Why'd you say that we're lucky there's a feast?"

I don't really remember the rest of the meal. I didn't touch the food once, and barely spoke. I was lost in thoughts and memories.

I was worried on why the Hat was so convinced Slytherin was where I belonged.

I didn't really listen to Dumbledore's talk about the Triwizard Tournament. I've seen the movie. I knew that Harry would be surprised when he got into the tournament. I knew that at the third task ends in catastrophe.

At that thought, my head snaps up.

I'm searching another table, a sea of yellow and black for a certain face.

Obviously, he won't look exactly like in the movies– none of the rest of them did. But I caught sight of someone with similar features, surrounded by friends, whispering excitedly about the news of the tournament.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was looking at a dead man.

I don't know if it's ever happened to you, but it's overwhelming.

I run my hands through my hair, trying to slow my breaths. But then I catch sight of the Weasley twins. The matching devilish smirks on their faces.

I see Fred. Even though I don't have food in my stomach, I feel nauseous enough to throw up.

This is horrible.

"Percy?" Hermione whispers across the table, obviously concerned. "Are you okay?"

I start to nod, before I catch her eye and she sees that I'm obviously not.

I'm sitting in the same room as dead people. And no, I'm not referring to the ghosts.

"What's the matter?" she sounds quite anxious by now. "Are you feeling okay?"

I open my mouth to lie to her, but I'm interrupted by several yells of outrage, probably after people found out about the Tournament age limit.

I hadn't been upset about Diggory's death before. But now… I turn to look at the smiling Hufflepuff… now that he's _real_…

* * *

"Come on, mate," Ron pokes me in the back. "We should get going."

I look around to see the Great Hall mostly empty.

Harry and Ron start to walk away, debating about Quidditch, but Hermione's looking at me.

"What's the matter?" she asks me.

"Nothi–"

"Don't lie," she interrupts calmly.

"I just…" I run my hands through my hair. "I just know a few things I probably shouldn't and… I don't know…"

Hermione looks at me with concern. "Percy," she says softly. "Where's your family?"

I look up at her. I sigh tiredly. "I won't be seeing them anytime soon."

Hermione looks as if she's debating something. "You know that we're here for you, right? I mean… Harry lost his family, too."

I stand and smile. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"No problem," Hermione seems relieved that I appreciated the gesture.

"You coming?" Harry calls, nearly out the door, a frowning Ron beside him.

"I think Ron likes you, Hermione," I whisper as we follow them out.

"Likes me?" she questions.

"Or… how do you guys say it in England… _fancies_ you," I smirk at her and she blushes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she insists.

HARRY

Hermione, Ron, and I sit in the Common Room. We're the only ones left, everyone else has gone to bed.

"What do you think of Percy?" I ask.

"I've… heard of him before…" Hermione says, obviously thinking hard.

"You have?" Ron asks. "Where?"

"I don't remember," Hermione admits. "But I'm trying to recall…"

"He says stuff like 'oh my _gods_' and 'Holy Hephaestus'," Ron says. "Whatever the bloody hell that means."

"You know what's odd?" Hermione still seems lost in thought. "All of that stuff is familiar, as well. But I just… it's on the tip of my tongue…"

"Wait," I begin slowly. "Had you heard of him before you were a witch? Is he someone in the Muggle world?"

Hermione thinks about it for a sec, but then shakes her head. "I'll ask my parents if they know anything. But I don't suggest we press him about this. I asked him about his family. I didn't get a direct answer, but…"

She didn't continue, so Ron urges, "Go on."

Hermione looks, biting her lip. "I think they're dead."

Ron and I both freeze for a second, staring at her.

"What? Wait, why do you think that?" I ask.

"He just had a faraway look and said he probably wouldn't see them again soon," she replies, recalling. "Or something else might've happened to them…" She faded off for a second. Shaking her head she continued, "Anyway, I wouldn't directly ask him about being known in the Muggle world or his past or something. It might be a touchy subject."

"But what if he's dangerous?" Ron asks.

"Dumbledore's a very powerful wizard, Ron," Hermione rolls her eyes. "And he's also not stupid. He wouldn't let Percy in if he knew he was a Death Eater."

Ron shrugs, yawning. "If you say so, Hermione," he mutters, clearly no longer listening.

She shoots him a disapproving look, then gets to her feet. "I'm off to bed. And I suggest you two should do the same."

PERCY

By breakfast the next morning, I'm starving. Skipping dinner– not an option. I dig hungrily into the food, quite disappointed by the lack of blueness. I barely glance at my schedule, not very excited about the prospect of school.

When I bothered to look, Ron, Hermione, and Harry had already looked over theirs.

I tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

I had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherins (that sounds pleasant). Next, my favorite subject: Lunch. Then an afternoon of Divination.

"What do you guys have?" I lean over to peak at Harry's.

"Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination," Harry says.

"Same," I say, shoving toast in my mouth. I spot Hermione's schedule on the table and give my dyslexic brain a moment to figure out what it says. "Hey, Hermione, what's Arithmancy?"

"Oh no," Ron groans and covers his ears. "Why, Percy? Why'd you ask?"

"Ronald!" Hermione looks thoroughly offended. She turns on me. "And Percy, it's not Arith_mancy_ it's _Arith_mancy."

Her similarities to Annabeth cause me to give a sad smile. Always correcting me. They'd be good friends. "You remind me of someone."

Hermione starts to reply, but we're interrupted by a rustling noise from above. I glance up to see hundreds of owls soaring through the open windows.

Owls?!

Then I remember that's the wizards' texting system. Annabeth had put her stamp of approval on that one (since it involved owls, you know).

Daydreaming sadly about Annabeth and watching others around me receive things, I sigh quietly and reach into my pocket for the familiar feel of my pen.

_It's real_. I comfort myself, trying not to think of the empty field where my home was. _It's real, real, real_…

I jump slightly in my seat when a small box is dropped onto my plate, which is now empty of food (because the food is now in my stomach).

"Who's that from?" Hermione asks curiously.

Ron and Harry don't look very interested, but Hermione's eyes are wide with wonder. She's not trying to be mean, but I'm a guy who was almost sent to Azkaban, has no family, and is possibly insane. Who would send me anything?

I'm curious, too. I see a note on top:

_Do not open while in public_.

Blinking rapidly and staring, I hold the box in my hands.

Hermione sees the note. "What language is that?" she asks.

I ignore her in my daze, mumbling absentmindedly: "Catch you guys later," and then all but sprint from the room.

I wander around for a few minutes, looking for a quiet corridor.

I just need a place to think. Somewhere familiar that no one else can get to. So I can open the box.

I glance around the empty corridor, spotting a large door, old and dusty-looking.

Looking back and forth down the hall and seeing no one, I decide to take my chances.

I open the door to find a living room. Small and giving a feeling of comfort with the fluffy couch and crackling fire. The walls are a tan color, matching the couch. The fire is the only light in the room.

I only pause for a second to wonder why the fire's burning before I let the door swing shut behind me, and I walk into the room.

Finding nothing suspicious, I sit down and refocus my attention on the box.

I pull the tape off and open it.

The first thing I see is a piece of paper: _In order to get home, you must follow the story until the end._

At the bottom there's a symbol. One I recognize, after a moment of thought, as the Deathly Hallow symbol.

Underneath is four packages.

I reach for the biggest one and carefully unwrap the object from the brown paper.

I gape at the object for a few minutes. It's a Yankee's baseball cap.

Is it Annabeth's? I hesitantly put it on and hold up my hand in front of my face. There's nothing there.

How did I get Annabeth's hat?

Mystified and worried for her well-being, I take off the hat and take out another one of the packages and rip the paper off.

A thick book, written in Ancient Greek, sits in my hand.

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire._

Oh gods. I was hoping to forget the fact that I was _living in a book_.

I flip open the book, turning through the events until I get to today.

I'd just come from page 193, Chapter Thirteen.

Oh my gods_. Oh my gods_. _Ohmygods!_

I set the book down on the floor with shaking hands. I'll destroy it later.

I pick up the next package. It's very small.

Unwrapping it, I'm met with my wristwatch, the one that turns into a shield. Quickly putting it on my wrist and desperately trying not to think of home, I grab for the last package.

It's long and thin, and when I open it, I find a Celestial bronze disk the size and shape of an iPad.

The screen is so clear and defined that it's almost like I'm there.

On the screen is Annabeth. She's kneeling, alone in my cabin, sobbing.

My heart breaks in half. I feel tears in my own eyes. "Annabeth," I whisper, touching the screen.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, paralyzed, watching her. Wishing I was there with her. Crying.

Worlds apart, literally, but both doing the same thing.

Eventually, Annabeth gets up, looking around the room.

As she leaves, she whispers something, and somehow I know exactly what she says:

"I'll find you, Percy. I promise."

I set it down and grit my teeth, clenching and unclenching my fists. I'm no child of Athena, but I know something's going on here. Something dangerous. I'm going to find out what it is.

Standing up quickly, I throw the stuff into the box, and walk out the door (completely forgetting to burn the book). I'm going to find this other demigod, wherever they were.

Breakfast is over by now, so a few people are rushing through the halls.

I pause, looking around. Shouldn't there be more people on their way to class?

Hurrying down the corridor, I see a group of three people, dressed in yellow and black, talking excitedly.

As they get closer to me, I ask, "Hey, guys? Where is everyone?"

One of them, a tall, gangly guy with dark blonde, curly hair and brown eyes looks at me oddly. He's even taller than me, though only slightly. "Aren't you Percy Jackson?" he sounds a little shaky, possibly frightened.

"I hope that's not a bad thing," I say and hold out my hand, grinning.

Picking up on my casualness, the trio seems to lose some of the tension.

The blonde takes my hand. His smile is still a little cautious. "Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Try saying that five times fast," I smirk. "Finch-Fletchley, Finch-Fletchley, Flinch-Flechy, nope." I laugh. "Can't do it."

The girl on his right also laughs. She also has blond hair and brown eyes, but she doesn't look much like Justin.

"I'm Hannah Abbott," she also holds out her hand with a giant smile on her face.

"Hey," I take her hand. She blushes and looks down when I meet her eyes.

"And I'm Ernie Macmillan," the last guy was also blond, but a light blond. I could tell he was the boldest of the group, even if he was shorter than Justin.

"Awesome," I shake his hand, too, and his grip is firm.

"So, Percy," Ernie says. "What did you ask? When you first came up to us?"

I pause for a moment, trying to remember. "Oh! I was wondering where everyone was."

"Weren't you at breakfast?" Hannah asks.

"Well, yah, but I left early," I shrug.

"Oh."

"Well, all of a sudden, one after another, people started getting sick," Justin explains. "And by the end, there was maybe five people for each house left. So they had to postpone classes."

I don't even try to stop to expression of joy from leaping onto my face. Fred and George were geniuses! "That's awesome!"

"I know!" Ernie agrees. "We had Double Potions in the afternoon."

"I had Divination," I say.

"That's just as bad," Justin shivers. "Trelawney is nuts."

"We still have the same classes tomorrow," Hannah interrupts. "They just had to move it forward a day."

"Damn it," Ernie curses. "I hate Snape."

"Don't we all?" Justin adds.

"So what about the people who aren't sick?" I ask.

"They want us to get out of the castle," Hannah shrugs. "We're spending the day at Hogsmeade." She pauses for a moment. "Want… want to join us?"

"Sure!" I say. "Do they have a candy shop?"

"In the name of Merlin, Percy! Of course they do!" Ernie exclaims.

"Awesome," I think of mountains of blue candy. "Hold on, though. I have to drop my stuff off in my Dormitory. Where should I meet you guys?"

"We have to grab our coats, too," Justin says. "How about the Entrance Hall?"

"See you guys there, then?" I say.

"Bye, Percy!" "See yuh, mate!" "Good-bye!"

_They seem like trustworthy people_, I think as I try to find my way to Gryffindor Tower.

Soon, however, I'm staring at unfamiliar walls. I'm so stupid. I shouldn't've expected to know my way around on the first day.

"Percy Jackson?" a voice says.

I turn to see Nearly Headless Nick. Thank the gods. "Hey," I say. "I'm kind of lost. Um… can you help me find Gryffindor Tower?"

"Of course!" Nick says. "Follow me."

As I follow him through the empty corridors, I decide to go out on a limb. "How did you know me?"

Nick glances at me with a panicked look. "I'm not supposed to say."

"Please?" I ask.

Nick sighs. "Okay, listen. Normally, Lord Hades doesn't let ghosts return to the mortal world. However, he makes very rare exceptions, if they can make some use in the world. My job is the ghost of Gryffindor."

"Wait, you know Hades? So, can you get to the Underworld from here?"

"Percy, quiet down a little, please," Nick looks around him frantically. "Anyway, I still have to return to the Underworld briefly every year to report to Lord Hades about whatever he wants to know. This year I met his son, Nico."

"Nico!" my eyes go wide with joy. Hope surges through me.

"Hush!" Nick begs.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"So, Nico asked me a favor to keep an eye out for someone. He showed me a picture of you and told me that your name was Percy Jackson. Nico told me it wasn't likely that I'd find you, but I still agreed to look."

"Wait, when was this?" I ask suddenly. "A year ago?"

"No, no," the ghost says. "My yearly visits to Lord Hades is on August 31st every year."

I groan. "So you won't be able to return to the Underworld to tell them about me until _next year_?"

"Unfortunately," Nick apologizes.

I see the Fat Lady in front of us as we approach. My hope has almost sputtered out. But at least it's still there. "Well, thanks anyway, Nick," I sigh mournfully.

"Percy?" Nick says, before I can approach the portrait. "Are you a demigod?"

I turn and look at him, puzzled. "Nico didn't tell you?"

"No."

"I'm a son of Poseidon," I say sadly.

Nick smiles. "I am a son of Ares."

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. "You're a demigod?"

Nick nods. "Same thing happened to me that happened to you. I appeared in the wizard world one day when I was eighteen. I appeared to be sixteen. I still don't understand how or why." He shrugs.

"What about your family and friends and all?" I ask.

Nick looks at me. "Not meaning to diminish your hope, my boy, but I never saw them again."

I try not to let the dread fill me and so I turn, throwing a "thanks anyway, Nick," over my shoulder and walking quickly up to the Fat Lady.

I give her the password and run into the room.

HERMIONE

Harry, Ron, and I left breakfast and went up to the deserted Common Room. They wanted the few kids still well to go to Hogsmeade today, and to be out of the school within the hour.

I quickly got ready and was downstairs in the Common Room, waiting for Ron and Harry.

Deciding to write a letter to my parents, since I had time, I sat down at one of the tables and began to write.

After a few minutes, I read over my finished draft.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_You won't believe what happened today! The majority of the school got sick and they had to postpone classes! I'm dreadfully disappointed. I was looking forward to Arithmancy this afternoon._

_This year the school is hosting the Triwizard Tournament! Basically, two other wizarding schools are coming to Hogwarts, and one student is elected to compete from each. The ones chosen take part in three tasks, and the winner receives one thousand Galleons! I can't wait to watch!_

_Something particularly curious is also happening this year. A special student from America was sent to the school, and the Ministry believes he may be mentally ill and possibly a victim of You-Know-Who. He seems nice enough to me, however._

_But on the other hand, I also wanted to ask if you knew about someone named Percy Jackson? I'm sure I've heard his name before, and everything about him seems familiar. Maybe I'm just imagining it. _

_I hope everything is going well at home. I miss you guys already. Harry and Ron say hi. I love you!_

_~Hermione_

As I'm folding the letter closed, Harry and Ron appear on the steps.

"Harry," Hermione asks. "Do you mind if I borrow Hedwig? I just want to send a letter to my parents."

"Sure," Harry holds out his hand for the letter.

I give it to him and he turns and heads back upstairs.

"I can't wait to go to Honeydukes," Ron exclaims, his eyes lighting up.

I laugh at him. After a moment, I realize that Percy never came back to lunch. "Wait, what about Percy? Did you see him up in your dorm?"

"Percy?" Ron asks. "Hermione, Percy doesn't share a dorm with us. The ministry insisted he have his 'own space'." Ron rolls his eyes. "They think he's recovering from something."

"Do you think he's okay? He never came back to breakfast," I fidget nervously.

"I'm pretty sure he's fine, Hermione," Ron insists. He snorts. "Even if I didn't see him cause Malfoy to pee himself, the guy looks like he can take care of himself."

I know what he's saying. Percy's build is tall and strong. You can almost feel the power crackling in the air around him. He doesn't seem like the kind of person that Malfoy (or any student at the school for that matter) could easily take down.

I still shiver at the memory of Percy's glare at Malfoy that one day on the train.

Harry returns, walking towards us, just as the portrait hole swings open to reveal Percy himself.

"Hey, guys," he says hurriedly. He looks like he just saw a ghost. No, he looks like I'd imagine a Muggle would look after seeing a ghost. He looks shaken and depressed and uncertain.

"What's up with you?" Ron asks. His voice isn't rude, instead he sounds genuinely concerned, as a friend might be for a friend.

"I'm heading to Hogsmeade," he says.

"We are, too," Harry says. "Do you want to come with us?"

Percy looks slightly torn. "Um, I can't."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Uh," he rubs the back of his neck. "I agreed to go with a few other people. Hufflepuffs."

"Who?" I ask, curious. I shouldn't be surprised that he already has other friends. He's the kind of person that people like right away.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Ernie Macmillan," he says.

I immediately think about how Harry had saved Justin from Malfoy's snake in second year, but we all thought that he was setting it against him. They'd thought he was the Heir of Slytherin.

"Sorry, guys," he sounds upset.

"It's fine, mate," Harry assures him. "Maybe we'll run into you there."

"Yeah," he says. "I heard there's a candy shop." Some of the joyful light returns to his eyes.

"Honeydukes is the best," Ron tells him.

"You'll be seeing _us_ there," I roll my eyes, laughing slightly at Ron.

Percy smirks. "That's probably the only place I'll go."

"It's Ron's second home," Harry tells him.

"Hey!" Ron says. "Wait, what's my first?"

We all laugh at him, before Percy heads upstairs and we exit the room on our way to Hogsmeade.

**i hope you liked it! thank you for reviewing! see you guys later! guesses for the next chapter?**


	11. Chapter 11

**hi super short chapter. it's not that interesting either srry, but it's important to the plot**

**anyway i'm looking for a beta reader (btw i havent checked my PM yet so if u already offered, i just haven't seen yet) to proof-read my stuff before i post it**

**anyway, on with the bad, short, and boring chapter!**

CHAPTER ELEVEN~PERCY

I have a newfound respect for magic candy. Or British candy. Candy in general, really, even though I always had respect for that.

Honeydukes is amazing.

The ministry gave me access to some money (because I'm "recovering") and I am gladly spending it.

After my newfound friends manage to drag me out of Honeydukes, Justin makes us pay a visit to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Apparently he has a habit of breaking and losing quills.

After that, Hannah and Ernie want to visit a Herbology shop (Dogweed and Deathcap), while Justin wants to go to Sprintwitches (a sport shop).

"Well Percy can come with me," Justin suggests. "And you two can go into Dogweed and Deathcap. Then we could meet at The Three Broomsticks for lunch."

"Sounds good to me," Hannah says, obviously anxious to get into the Herbology shop. "Come on, Ernie."

I look around us as Justin and I head to the sports store.

"Do you play Quidditch, Percy?" Justin asks.

"Nope," I shudder, thinking of flying. Before I remember Zeus isn't here. Wait, does that mean…

"Really?" Justin seems surprised. "I mean, I don't either, but you seem like the type of guy to play."

After a moment, I shake my head. "I'm a half-blood, and so I grew up with Muggle sports. I've never been good on a broom, anyway." He seems to buy the lie pretty easily.

"That's understandable," he says. "I mean, I'm a muggle-born, so I didn't even know the Wizard World existed before I got my letter."

"So why are we going to a sports store?" I ask him.

Justin shrugs. "They sell comfortable shoes."

I laugh at this, shaking my head.

Suddenly, I spot an old, frankly awful-looking place to the side.

The sign swinging in the breeze reads: Hogs Head Inn.

My eyes widen.

_I suggest you stay at the Hog's Head Inn. I hear Hogsmeade is nice this time of year._

The demigod.

"Percy?" Justin asks. "You alright?"

"Yeah," I say, thinking hard to come up with a lie. "Um, I just forgot that I had to owl something, if that's okay."

I remember seeing an Owl Post place.

"Sure," Justin says. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, no," I insist. "It's okay. I'll see you at lunch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"Okay, then," he still sounds uncertain, before continuing down the road.

I wait until he's out of sight before I run towards the Inn, cursing my robes for not being easy to move in.

I push open the door and find myself in a room so filthy that you can barely see through the windows and the floor looks more like the building was built directly from the ground, with no floor at all.

"Hello?" I call across the room. The tables are empty except stubs of candles sitting on top of them.

A grumpy-looking old man comes out of a back room and appears behind the bar, with long gray hair and a beard.

"What do you want?" he grunts.

"I was wondering if you could help me," I say. "I'm looking for someone."

"Sorry, kid," he says. "You're the only costumer at the moment. Now do you want anything or not?"

Feeling defeated, I collapse onto a stool. "Water's fine, please," I sigh.

He passes me the drink. "Five Knuts."

I give him the money, and when I think he's not looking, I close my eyes and pour the water over my head, wanting to feel the surge of strength I normally get from it.

After a moment, I feel it, a tug in my gut, and smile.

A loud crashing sound makes my eyes fly open.

The old man just dropped a glass, shattering it all over the floor. "Holy Hephaestus," he gasps.

I jump to my feet. "You're a demigod?"

The man takes out his wand and cleans up the mess in three seconds flat.

"Follow me," he says.

Without question, I jump over the counter and follow him into another room with a small, feeble-looking table with matching chairs. A fireplace sits off to the side, and a flickering lamp hangs above the table.

"Sit," he orders.

I do.

He sits across from me, casually lighting the fire with a movement of his wand.

"I am Aberforth, son of Hermes. You are?" his voice is still grumpy.

"Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon," I say, trying to hide my joy at finding another (and alive) demigod.

"Poseidon…" his eyes widen. "So the second Titan War… is over?"

I nod.

"Were you the one of the prophecy?" he asks.

I nod again.

He seems to think about this for a moment. "How's Chiron?"

"He's fine," I say. "But what are you doing here? What are we doing here? We're not supposed to be, right? There's been some mistake?"

Aberforth leans forward and folds his hands on the table, looking at me closely. "The information I'm about to give you stays in this room at all costs, is that understood?"

Cautiously, I nod.

"Every fifty years since Hogwarts was created, a demigod was sent here, without warning. Our job is to protect the wizards and hunt down those who practice the Dark Arts. We don't know who sent us here, or why or how, but there is no way to get home, so don't even bother trying."

He sees the pain cross my face, but he continues.

"Sometimes we have easier jobs than others. Mine was especially hard, with Voldemort running about. I can sense yours might be harder."

"But Harry Potter is a book series," I interrupt. "My girlfriend's obsessed with it."

Aberforth looks at me. "It is? Have you read it?"

"I've seen the movies," I say.

Aberforth seems to be thinking furiously. "I don't know what that's about, but it's going to be useful for you."

"Wait, what?" I ask.

"Our job has always been to protect the good wizards from the bad ones. Since you will be doing the same thing until the next demigod comes, knowing about the future will help you."

"Wait, what?" I repeat. "Did the Ministry do this or something?"

Aberforth shakes his head furiously. "No. Nobody but the actual demigods know about this. Anyone who found out would have to be killed. The Ministry would probably try to destroy us if they found out."

"Wait, so I'm now part of a secret organization that consists of two people, you and me, and there's no getting out of it, and I have to protect all the good little wizards from the big bad wizards?"

Aberforth's eyes glint with amusement, but he doesn't smile. "Basically. Except, pretty much all ghosts are demigods, so they'll help you out of you need it."

I rub my eyes. Why do the gods hate me? "So do I get any cool spy gear? Or like an awesome outfit or something? Since I'm like a superhero, now?"

Aberforth squints at me. "No. Again, I say, this is _top secret_. An outfit would give it away. Don't you have your weapons?"

I pull out my pen and hold up my wrist to show my watch. "Yeah."

"I suggest you keep in shape, Percy," Aberforth says. "Wizards may not need to move around as much when they fight, but you'd still do well to know your skills with a sword."

I nod, feeling more lost than I had before I came here.

"In fifty years, when the new demigod finds you or you them, you tell them all this, got it?"

I don't nod. I wasn't going to be here for fifty years. That was certain. No way in Hades.

"And you've heard about the Triwizard Tournament, right?" Aberforth asks.

"Yeah."

"If anyone important gets into it, make sure they live. Any questions?"

Yeah. Tons. How'd we get here? What if I don't want to do this? Why'd you just accept this? Didn't you try to get home? Do I have to keep going to Hogwarts?

I don't say any of this. "What's your weapon of choice? And why the Hades do you run a bar?"

"I use a sword," he answers. "And I run this place because a) it's close to Hogwarts and b) because my father is the god of travelers. Even though I will never be able to see him again, this is my way of paying proper tribute to him. For example, the demigod before me was a daughter of Apollo. She taught Divination for years. You could be a mermaid trainer, maybe."

I see his lips tug upwards slightly.

"First of all," I snap. "You don't train mermaids. They aren't pets. Secondly, what does having a bar have to do with Hermes?"

"Technically it's an inn, to offer travelers a place to stay," he says. "And also, you'll find your Patronus is similar to your heritage."

"So what's yours?"

"A goat."

"What? Is that one of his sacred animals?"

"Hermes is the patron of herdsmen."

"Okay then," I say with a snort.

"Any more questions?" he grunts, clearly done with me.

"Yeah, what if I die?" I ask him.

"Elysium if you did your job, or Hades will send you back as a ghost."

"What would happen if I killed myself right now just to die and see my friends?"

"You probably wouldn't go to Elysium."

"Oh."

"Anything else?"

I try to think of something, but nothing comes. I sigh and shake my head.

"If you need anything I'm here," he says as he ushers me out the door, clearly not wanting me to return.

With a sigh and trying to hide my sudden despair, I head towards The Three Broomsticks for lunch.

ANNABETH

The prophecy didn't come from Rachel this time. And technically, it wasn't a prophecy, I guess.

It came in my dream.

I was standing alone on a hill, the strong wind making me stagger slightly on my feet.

The wind soon began to whistle words to me. Tunes that eventually formed a song.

_Two lovers separated, completely alone.  
One of them only wants to get home._

_Both pray to whatever god they can.  
Waiting for help from a helping hand._

_So shall I stoop down, help these puny mortals?  
Shall I bring them together; open the portals?_

_Daughter of Wisdom, Son of the sea.  
To get to each other, Death is the key._

_No more I will say.  
My job here is done.  
Don't forget to hope.  
Or two will become one._

I start awake in bed. I don't recognize the voice, but I remember the message clear as day.

Rushing over to my desk, I scribble down the message and try to figure out what it means.

Two lovers, daughter of wisdom, son of the sea: Percy and I.

Death is the key?

I bite my lip. It probably isn't literal death. Could it mean the Underworld, possibly? Is the key in the Underworld?

**i hope to update soon but school starts tomorrow so idk when i will.**

**love u all!**

**review?**


	12. Chapter 12

**guys, i'm thinking of changing this story's name to "Isn't He Fictional?" becuz when i came up with the name i have now, i didn't even really know what the story was going to be about... anyway, thoughts on that?**

**thnx for reading and reviewing and favorite-ing and following and all that other stuff. :)**

**some of u have been awaiting this chapter :P others of u have no clue :) *cue evil laugh in the background* **

CHAPTER TWELVE~ANNABETH

Open the portals…

Two become one…

I get up, throwing on a jacket. I quietly leave my cabin and walk over to the Hades cabin.

Hazel's at Camp Jupiter now, so he should be the only one there.

I knock on the door. "Nico!"

After a moment, Nico, looking half-awake, answers the door. "What the Styx are you doing?"

"Are there any portals in the underworld? Anywhere else that Percy could be? Other _worlds_?"

Nico's eyes widen. "How'd you know that?"

I quickly summarize it for him. "We need to go check each one. Now."

Nico groans. "First of all, my dad probably wouldn't let us. Second, it's still the middle of the night. Third, I already talked to some ghosts that go to the other worlds about looking for Percy."

"What'd they say?" I demand.

"Nothing, yet," he yawns. "Can I go to sleep now?" without waiting for an answer, he starts closing the door.

"Nico di Angelo," I stick my foot in the closing door to prevent him from shutting me out. "You will help me find Percy or I swear to the gods I will–"

Before I could finish my threat, he opens the door, reluctantly letting me in.

As soon as we get into the cabin, I swivel to look at him. "Tell me about these ghosts you talked to. What other worlds? Is this some ancient magic?"

Nico sighs and gestures for us to sit down at a table. "My dad wasn't exactly sure how they came to be. It seems, to him, that one day they were suddenly there, existing as if they'd always been there. My dad thinks that it was supposed to cause chaos, and that some minor god managed to make the portals and stuff."

"Portals?" I ask skeptically.

"Well, what word do you want me to use?" he demands.

"Passages, maybe," I suggest. "Portals makes it sound like some sort of Science Fiction book."

Nico rolls his eyes. "Anyway, obviously my dad can't leave the Underworld unless invited, and no one can see the port– passages but him and I. And dead people."

"Wait a sec," I interrupt him. "Can't _you_ go through the passages?"

Nico suddenly has a blank expression on his face. "Um, I guess."

In my frustration with him, I smack him in the back of the head. "Nico, you idiot! Let's _go_!"

"But I–"

"Meet you at the Big House in twenty minutes!" I call, heading out.

"No! Annabeth–"

"Do you _want_ to find Percy?" I demand angrily.

"Of course! But I–"

"Then hurry up and get ready, di Angelo!" I say with an aggravated huff and I stomp out the door.

HARRY

Hermione, Ron, and I were walking down the street when we saw Percy with Justin.

"We should go say hi," Hermione urges. I can tell she sort of fancies Percy, and I can tell Ron hates it.

"No," Ron grumbles. "Let's not. He's got his bloody Hufflepuff friends to replace us with."

"Ron!" Hermione scolds. "Come on, you two." About to stomp off, I grab her arm.

She turns to tell me to let go, but I point at Percy, who's watching Justin walk down the street.

"Well now we can say hi to him and it won't be awkward," Hermione insists.

"No, watch," Ron's eyes widen as Percy sprints towards an old-looking shack. After he disappears inside, I immediately say, "Come on! We've got to see what he's up to!"

Hermione flushes with anger. "Harry! We can't _spy_ on him!"

"Look, Hermione, just because you think he's _handsome_," Ron mocks, and I immediately know he's made a mistake, "doesn't mean he's trustworthy."

Hermione looks furious. "You really think I'm that shallow?!" she raises her voice. "You really think I only like Percy because he's _handsome_?!" she's almost shrieking now. I glance at the shack, which Percy disappeared into, half hoping Percy would appear, and half hoping he wouldn't.

"So you admit you think he's handsome?" Ron snaps.

Hermione flushes darker. "That doesn't matter, Ron! He's a good person, and all he's done to you since he's come here is try and be _friendly_! He might've been captured by Voldemort for goodness' sake! Stop acting like an idiot and at least try to be _approachable_!"

Ron glares. "We don't all have to fall at the bloody git's feet, Hermione," he spits. "I bet you he's not as good as he seems. He might be a spy for You-Know-Who!"

I can tell that Hermione is getting even more worked up with everything he says, so I quickly interrupt. "Look, we can figure this out later, but for now, he could come out here any time and realize we're trying to spy on him and–"

"We are _not_ spying on him!" Hermione insists, exasperated.

"Or even if we _seem_ like it. If we want him to trust us, we have to trust him," I finish.

Ron mumbles something about bloody trust and rich little prats. If I didn't know any better, it might even seem he was talking about Malfoy with the second one.

"If you need anything, I'm here," a grumpy, muffled voice that didn't belong to any of us says.

I exchange a wide-eyed look with Hermione and Ron and we quickly run to the side of the building to avoid being seen by anyone.

I peek around the corner as Percy exits, hands in his sweatshirts pockets, looking miserable, and trying really hard not to look miserable at the same time. I silently pray he doesn't walk our way, and instead heads down the street towards the Three Broomsticks. Luckily, he turns and heads down in the opposite direction, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"We should go in and see who he was talking to," Ron suggests.

"I don't know it might be dangerous," Hermione says.

Ron looks triumphant at this, and I can tell he's about to make a remark, but I shoot him a look, and he closes his mouth.

"We'll be fine," I say, walking out into the open and inspecting the building.

"It's called the Hog's Head Inn," Ron says.

"Very intelligent, Ronald," Hermione snaps. It's clear she's still in a bad mood. "Are we going or not?"

"It looks like a pub," I say.

"Jackson was in it," Ron shrugs.

Hermione spins on him. "So now he's just _Jackson_?"

"Hermione," I say, and she rounds on me, fuming.

"_What_, Harry?"

"Um," I try to figure out how I'm going to phase this. An angry Hermione is probably the worst thing to have. "I get it Ron's being a bit of a jerk, but can we _please_ continue this later."

For a moment she searches my face, and I'm sure she's going to explode at me, but then she just sighs, taking out her wand. "Come on then."

She stomps up the stairs and opens the door, not bothering to hold it for us.

We enter behind her and look around. It's dark and dirty, and empty.

"Hello?" I call out.

An old man who seems rather familiar steps out from a back room. "What?" he sounds very uninterested.

Hermione turns to me.

I realize how much I hadn't planned this out. "Um, we're looking for someone," I start."

"You're the second person today to ask me that," he grumbles, not smiling. "There's nobody here, as you can see. Now do you want anything or not?"

"Was there anybody here a moment ago?" Hermione asks.

The old man turns suspicious, studying us. "You know full well there was somebody here a moment ago. A young boy who's searching for his lost family. Unless you got a problem with that, I suggest you stop trying to get in other people's business. Now get out of my pub." His voice turns angry and led by Ron, we hurry out of the Hog's Head Inn.

When we get out onto the street, I hear Hermione sniffling, and when I glance towards her, I see her trying not to cry.

"Don't you guys see what I mean?" she snaps, her old fury returning. "We need to stay out of Percy's business or we're going to end up losing his friendship. I'll see you guys back at the castle."

With that, she turns and stomps off, leaving us in the snow, guilty.

PERCY

Lunch with Hannah, Justin, and Ernie was great.

I asked if the cooks could make my food blue, and it came back the bluest I'd ever seen it.

Something I loved about my new friends is they took one look at me, then my food, then at me again, and asked no questions. They knew I probably couldn't talk about it. They'll never know truly how much I appreciated that.

After lunch, I told them I was heading back to the castle, but they all decided to stay for a little longer.

So now I'm walking alone back to Hogwarts, the wind pushing and pulling harshly. I'm attempting not to feel depressed, because the blue food sparked old memories, but then it just made my heart ache with sadness.

My mom deserves more respect then she gets. She has to deal with me.

My vision goes blurry at the thought of my mother, and all she did for me. She's the best person in the world, and the Fates have probably tortured her even more than me.

The grounds are deserted, and the lake is still. The sky is covered in a blanket of clouds.

My vision suddenly zeros in on the lake and my eyes go wide.

The lake.

Not a thought goes through my head, but suddenly I'm running. The world blurs by and I stand on the shores of the lake, the water lapping at my feet.

All across the lake, suddenly, waves break out, strong and welcoming. Without any more consideration, I dive into the water, and immediately I feel at home. The way that I only feel near water.

My vision is perfect, even though the water's muddy. The water seems to come to life with me.

The water, I can tell, is probably freezing, but I don't feel it.

As I dive deeper, creatures I've never seen before appear, and I know what they are.

I swim, feeling more at home than I'd had in this world before. I may not be able to go home for a long time, but at least I know it's real. And I still have this connection to my other life. Water.

I suddenly stop, because I'm being approached.

The creature has grayish skin and long, wild dark green hair. It has yellow eyes and broken teeth, with a thick rope of pebbles around its neck. It has a long, powerful silver fish tail, and it holds a spear in hand.

I'm half expecting it to run me through, but instead, it ducks its head to me, and I realize it's bowing.

"It has been a while since a descendent of our lord has come, Master," it hisses. The voice is slightly feminine, so it's probably a girl.

"Um, hi," I say, giving an awkward wave. "I'm Percy."

"Welcome, Lord Percy," she bows again.

"Um, just Percy is fine," I say, still eyeing her spear.

She seems to see me looking at her spear, and immediately throws it aside. "Master, we mean you no harm. Would you like to follow me for a proper greeting?"

I'm not entirely sure how she would react if I say no, so I simply nod.

As I follow her, I soon spot what I assume to be their houses. Caves are lined up like in a neighborhood, and gardens are out in front of some, growing seaweed. I even smile upon seeing a creature I recognize to be a grindylow (the name of it just pops in my head) tied to a stake outside a door like a dog.

As I follow the mermaid (*sings* _under da sea… under da sea…_), merpeople begin to emerge from the houses. Entire families come out.

I feel suddenly really self-conscious, as they bow and cheer like I'm super amazing.

But then, I just feel happy. At first, I'd thought they were kind of creepy, but now, as they smile, overjoyed (even if it's only me), I smile back at them. It lifts my spirits to know that I can make _someone_ happy, even if it's not my family. These guys have made a home down here, I'm kind of intruding, but instead, they're welcoming me.

Admittedly, I'm waiting for the point where my luck wears thin and they attack me, but they don't.

We soon near a place which I'm assuming is a mer-version of a town square or something. Places that look like shops circle a big, open area. Directly in front of me, a giant statue looms, carved from a boulder.

I study the statue. It's a huge merperson who, as I look closer, slightly resembles my father. It sort of sends shivers down my spine, but I don't know why.

The mermaid who was leading me turns around and gestures around her. "This is our home, Master Percy."

At the moment, I don't even bother correcting her on my name. I answer honestly: "It's amazing."

The merpeople seem to turn beautiful at my statement. They almost lose their freakiness. They smile with pride, shining with happiness.

"Would you like a tour, my lord?" another voice says. It's a hiss, but it's deep and masculine. I turn to see who I assume is also a very important guy, because everyone bows to him, too.

I glance up, glazing hundreds of feet up, the water seeming to get clearer so I can see, and I spot the darkening sky.

"Um," I say. "I've got to go. See you guys later?"

The merman nods, bowing. "Of course, Master. You are always welcome."

"Um, just call me Percy," I say.

"Of course, lord," he bows again. I sigh and smile, giving up.

I wave and start to swim upwards, almost sad to leave.

When I break to the surface, the sky is dark and I can tell I've been gone way too long.

I begin to sprint towards the castle, running hard, not wanting to miss dinner.

A hundred yards from the castle, I freeze in my tracks, stumbling slightly, cursing these wizard robes under my breath.

I feel like I'm being watched.

I scan the grounds, which are managing to grow darker by the minute. I squint, taking out Riptide by instinct, but I spot nothing.

After a moment of silence but for the wind whistling and a howl from the Forbidden Forest, I decide it was nothing.

Putting away my pen, I glance towards the Forest. It looks dangerous.

I'll explore it later.

I turn back towards Hogwarts and let my growling stomach lead the way.

HARRY

The Great Hall was filling up quickly. It looks like Madam Pomfrey got around to healing everyone.

Damn. We'll have to go to Divination tomorrow.

I look over the crowd, my breath stopping in my throat as I spot Cho Chang, laughing with her friends.

"Harry!" Hermione, who's sitting next to me, snaps her fingers in front of my face to get my attention. She hasn't forgiven us for the whole Percy thing, but at least she's talking to us.

"What?" I ask, my tone sounding slightly rude.

"Where's Percy?" she points towards a certain Hufflepuff trio, sitting at their table. Percy isn't with them.

Hermione misses the glare Ron's shooting at her, looking left and right for Percy.

The majority of the school is seated when he runs in. His hair is a complete mess, almost more so than mine. His green eyes shine with a happiness I've never seen before with him.

As he hurries towards us, he's completely oblivious to the hundreds of heads that turn his way, a lot of them girls (basically drooling).

I almost laugh when I compare Percy's tan complexion to ours. We look like vampires next to him.

Percy sits next to Ron, across from Hermione and me.

"Hey, guys," he says.

"We're you been?" I ask him.

When he looks at me, his eyes are shining with delight. I'm expecting him to start talking about a great adventure, news about his family, or maybe even a girl, but he just shrugs. "It was a nice day."

I glance at Ron and Hermione, remembering the man's anger at our prying. At seeing Percy, I feel suddenly guilty.

"Yeah," Hermione gives us a hard glare, obviously remembering too. She gives Percy a bright smile. "It was awesome."

He smiles back, flashing teeth in a smile-smirk that was more cheerful than normal. I glance at Ron, who, for once, had been observant and noticed. I could see it written on his face: _what the bloody hell happened to him?_

Dumbledore stands and the hall falls silent within seconds.

"I hope you all are feeling better by now, thank you Madam Pomfrey." He nods in her direction and she gives an exhausted smile. Turning back to us, he raises his hands and the food appears.

For a few minutes as we hungrily begin to eat, we say nothing, our mouths full.

"Hey, 'arry!" Percy says, looking up at me. He points at me with his fork, which is speared with a piece of meat. "You should get a tattoo!"

I choke, not expecting the question. "What?" I stare at him, a little cautious. "Why?"

I try not to think about it, but an image of the Dark Mark flashes in my mind.

Hermione and Ron also look at him. I guess no one has any idea what goes on in that guy's head. If there's anything at all…

"Like–" Percy shovels a huge piece of chicken into his mouth. Then tries to continue, but none of us understand him.

He rolls his eyes, swallowing. "Like on your forehead."

I continue to look at him as if he's gone mad. "Why?"

With his left hand (the one not holding his fork), he points to his own forehead. "Like on one side of your scar, get 'AC' and the other side write 'DC'." He smirks.

I look at him, even more puzzled than before. "_Why?_"

Percy looks at me like I told him that he had bright pink hair. "You know, like the band? ACDC? I have a friend who's obsessed."

I exchange looks with Ron and Hermione. "What?"

Percy rolls his eyes, refilling his plate. "Never mind."

Not seconds later, Fred and George appear, sitting on either side of Percy.

"Sooo…" they say in unison. "Success, right?"

Percy smirks, swallowing his food. "Oh yeah."

"Success?" Hermione demands, suddenly suspicious. "What are you three talking about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" George mocks.

"I would indeed!" her eyes flash. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing at all, Hermione," Fred insists with fake innocence.

"Yeah," George agrees, taking a chicken leg off a nearby platter and ripping off a chunk. "'othing at all."

Hermione looks disgusted as some of his food flies out of his mouth onto the table as he speaks.

"Remind me why you put up with them," a voice calls from down the table a little ways.

"I don't honestly know, Ginny," Hermione huffs in reply, glaring at the Weasley twins, then her own friends.

"Anyway, Percy," Fred says. "We just wanted to let you know that if you ever see this ugly fur ball with sort of a horrible orange and blackish coat–"

"That's Mrs. Norris," George chimes in. "Leave _immediately_. Or whatever you're doing will soon be discovered by Filch."

"Filch?" Percy questions, looking as if he's trying to remember the name.

"The 'caretaker'," Fred holds up finger quotes.

"_Which_," George interjects, "is frankly a horrible title for the mangy old bloke."

"_Because_," Fred adds, "by the definition of 'caretaker', it says he must provide cleanliness and hygiene to Hogwarts Castle."

"Which he does not–"

"–_in any way_–"

"–do."

"Yes," Fred says, mocking wistfulness. "The hallway used by Quidditch teams after practice will always smell like sweat."

Hermione wrinkles her nose at this, but doesn't say anything as they continue.

"By the way, Percy," the twins say in unison.

Then Fred says: "You play Quidditch?"

"Yeah," George continues. "You look like you'd be a Chaser."

"Plus," Fred elbows him, winking. "It'll make the ladies love you more."

"Not that you need more love, of course," George gestures none too subtly at a group of Ravenclaws staring at Percy rather dreamily.

Percy looks uncomfortable, though about the girls or Quidditch, I can't tell.

"Um," Percy runs a hand through his hair. "I, uh, don't play Quidditch."

"_Rubbish_," Fred and George exclaim together.

I still don't believe it myself. The guy looks every bit an athlete.

"Oh Merlin," George suddenly says.

"Is Percy afraid–" Fred mocks.

"–of _heights_?"

"Of course not!" Percy snaps, but he still looks nervous.

"Merlin's underwear!" Fred smirks. "You _are_."

"Just shut up," Percy stuffs his mouth with a large scoop of some sort of pasta.

George sniffles. "You don't need to be so _rude_, Percy!"

"Always such a meanie, aren't you?" Fred pretends to wipe his eyes.

Percy shoves him a little, smirking. "Whatever, Weasley."

"Hey, Fred, George!" a voice calls them from down the table.

The twins stand. "Bye, Percy-poo!"

Percy rolls his eyes. "See you later, if my bad luck continues."

George turns to Fred as they walk away. "Why do people always say your name first? Like 'look, it's Fred and George'! Why can't my bloody name be first for once?"

Percy stuffs yet another mouthful of food into his mouth. Merlin, he eats more than Ron.

"Idiots," he mutters under his breath.

HERMIONE

The morning comes quickly, and I'm overjoyed as I get ready quickly, dressing and grabbing my bag, so I can head straight to class after breakfast.

I meet a tired-looking Ron and Harry in the Common Room. "Hey. Where's Percy?" I ask.

"Good morning to you, too, Hermione," Harry yawns.

I glare at him. "I was just wondering."

Ron mutters something under his breath, about dreams and snogging, but I decide it's not worth the fight.

"Never mind," Harry says. "Let's go."

"What about Percy?" I ask, not wanting to sound like one of those girls whose only concern is boys, but I feel like we can't just leave him here.

"He can find his own bloody way to the bloody Hall," Ron snaps. "Now _come on_."

Glaring at him, I follow my friends none the less with a sigh.

I don't see Percy as I look up and down the table, but he's probably here somewhere.

I hum peacefully as the morning owls come.

"Oh!" I gasp slightly when an owl hovers in front of me, holding a rather large box. Hedwig.

"Oh, thank you!" I say, taking the box, wondering what on earth my parents could've put in here.

"What's 'at, 'Er-my-knee?" Ron asks, not really paying attention as he eats.

Harry, who's sitting next to me, scoots over a little so I can put the box on the bench, giving Hedwig a treat (from his bag).

"I don't know," I reply, opening it.

"Books, of course," Harry glances at them and grins slightly. I smile, too.

I spot a note on top of the books, taking it happily before even reading the titles.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_It is so good to hear from you! We miss you already!_

_I hope you still had a good day, even without classes! I'm glad you are well, escaping the sickness that was going around. We do hope you'll get to do Arithmancy soon, you seem to enjoy the class quite a bit!_

_Won't you be entering the Tournament? It sounds like it'd be fun! If you do, though, please be careful, sweetheart!_

_Oh, goodness! I hope you're being a good friend to the new student (we know you are)! The best thing to do is make him feel at home and loved, and he should be alright, if he is indeed recovering from something as terrifying as you say! Try not to pry too much about his personal life and just be a kind friend. It's probably what he needs._

That's similar to what I told Harry and Ron! I laugh a little at reading this. My parents and I often think alike. I continue:

_As for the name Percy Jackson, that's such a cool coincidence! Percy Jackson was a book series you loved when you were younger! It was a complete obsession, in fact. They even made movies, it was so popular, but you told us they weren't all that good, in comparison to the books at least._

My eyes go so wide and I almost gasp. How could I forget? I loved the Percy Jackson books! I guess I must've forgotten when I went off to Hogwarts! I'd always longed to be a daughter of Athena!

I quickly scan the rest of the letter.

_Everything's going amazing here, though we miss you! We hope Harry and Ron are well._

_~Love from Mum and Dad_

I look up and blink a few times. Percy Jackson. Merlin, I loved those books.

I set the note back down in the box, smiling at the memories of fangirling over Percy and his friends.

My eye catches the title of the first books on the stack. My eyes go wide with excitement.

_Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief._

_Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters._

I almost squeal as I look at all the books.

Everything from the original series and the Heroes of Olympus are here. I am so re-reading these. I also notice _the Demigod Diaries_, _the Demigod Files_, and _Percy Jackson's Greek Gods._

I love my parents.

"What are the books, Hermione?" Harry tries to sound like he cares, but it's almost offensive how obvious he doesn't. "Haven't seen you this happy sense you got ahold of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7_."

Completely forgetting, for the moment, that Percy is a real person (even if he obviously isn't the famous demigod from the story, that's ridiculous), and replying: "One of my favorite book series from when I was a kid."

Harry glances at it, before looking away. Then he freezes, turning back towards the box. "Merlin." Before I can stop him, he snatches one of them and stares at it.

"_Percy Jackson and the Battle of the Labyrinth_?" he reads aloud. He looks at me, curious and befuddled. "What?"

Even Ron looks up now. "What're you on about?"

"I asked my parents if they'd heard the name Percy Jackson before, and it happens to be the main character from a book I read," I snap.

"Percy's a book character?" Ron asks, confused.

"No, Ronald, he just happens to have the same name as one!" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Well, since he's a book character," Ron suggests with a laugh. "What if we're book characters, too?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," I say, with a small laugh. "Who on earth would ever read a book if you were in it?"

"Hey!" Ron protests. "I'm not that bad, am I? Harry?"

Harry pretends to look guilty, looking down at this plate.

"Whatever," Ron grunts.

"I'll see you guys in class," I say, standing. "I have to drop off this box in my dorm."

"Bye, 'mione," Harry calls.

"Bye," I reply.

Ron nods at me, his mouth too full to say anything.

As I walk upstairs, it occurs to me how much Percy fits the description of the demigod's character.

I shake my head at my own foolishness.

"As if," I say to myself. "When Percy's a demigod, I'll marry Ron!"

**Percy? a demigod? PA-LEASE! that's silly!**

**review thoughts on this chapter or guesses for the next chapter. **

**Ciao!**


	13. Chapter 13

**super short chapter for yeh (like 1,000 words *cringe*) **

**but i'll probs update tomorrow so don't kill me!**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN~PERCY

My eyes open and I roll over groggily. I moan, shielding my eyes from the sun shining through the windows.

After a moment where my eyes start to drift shut again, I start, looking at the sun, already fairly high in the sky.

"Styx!" I yell, shooting out of bed.

I quickly dress in my gold and red robes, throwing a few random books into my bag, brushing my teeth at lightning speed before sprinting out the door.

I make it five feet before I realize I forgot my shoes.

Running back to get them, I curse the Ministry for making me have my own room.

As I start to run, down the stairs, past a few six and seventh years (probably with free periods), and out the Common Room.

I stumble in my robes, tripping over the edge and crashing my shoulder into a wall.

Where was I going again?

I keep walking, quickly, trying to find my schedule as I dig blindly through my bag.

Finally, I bring it out.

Herbology with the Hufflepuffs.

Great. I can't even recall what the Hades Herbology is, much less where it is.

Didn't Herbology have to do with… reading the future?

"Mr. Jackson!" a stern voice calls from down the corridor.

I look up from my schedule to see McGonagall approaching. I swallow hard. Schist.

"Good morning, um, Professor," I say, giving a weak wave.

Her eyes burn holes through my head as she gets closer. "Mr. Jackson, should you not be in class?"

I take a moment to think about that. "Should I… not… shouldn't I… what…?" I scratch the back of my neck, unsure. "Um, I don't really understand–"

"Because you are new, today will be excused. However, in the future you will be expected in class,_ on time_," she gives me a stern look. "If you have trouble getting to classes, you may ask a fellow Gryffindor for help. Tardiness is not accepted. Do I make myself clear?"

I gulp. "Yes, ma'am."

"I believe you are headed to Herbology, correct, Mr. Jackson?"

I'm not going to bother asking how she knew, or remembered. I simply nod.

"Follow me."

For an old lady, she walks quickly.

We twist and turn down nearly empty hallways, and, before I know it, we're out the doors.

She points to the greenhouses. "Good luck."

"Thanks," I mumble, depressed about the fact that I'm, yet again, returning to school.

"And, Mr. Jackson?"

I turn back to McGonagall.

"I expect you on my Quidditch team next year," her voice is as stern as ever, but I see her mouth twitch a little, suggesting a smile.

I decide not to comment on the fact that I have a fear of getting shot out of the sky by my uncle's giant lightning bolt. "Um, yes, ma'am."

With a stiff nod, she turns and starts back towards the castle, and I turn to face my worst enemy: school.

I look to the sky and wish that Annabeth was here with me. Absentmindedly, my hand reaches out, as if _her_ hand was there, dangling by her sides, as she inhales a deep breath, ready to march into Herbology (and be immediately amazing at it).

But then she disappears, my hand grabs at nothing, and I'm alone again. Biting my lip painfully hard, I turn back towards the greenhouses, and march in.

ANNABETH

Backpack slung over my shoulder, I pound on the doors of the Big House.

A few minutes later, Chiron opens the door (wheelchair form). "Annabeth? Is everything alright?" he spots my backpack. "Where are you going?"

I take a deep breath and hastily explain my plan.

"Where's Nico?" Chiron asks when I'm finished.

"He'll be out in a little," I reply.

"Annabeth, dear?" a voice mocks. "You didn't _really_ think you were leaving without _us_, did you?"

A smirking Leo steps into the light of the Big House, followed by Calypso, Jason, and Piper. Even more to my surprise, Hazel and Frank follow. Behind them emerge even more campers.

I squint into the shadows behind them. "Nico di Angelo, get your butt over here and explain yourself. _Now_."

Nico takes a step forward, scratching the back of his neck. "Um. Hazel and Frank got to Camp late last night. She was in the Hades cabin with us. Um, she heard us, and then told Frank, who told Jason, who went and told Piper. Basically, the Aphrodite Cabin then told everyone. And I, uh…" he pauses, looking at Leo. "I don't know how he got here. I'm pretty sure he sleeps in Bunker 9."

Leo gives a sly smile. "And how would you know that, di Angelo?"

"Shut up and tell us how you knew."

"I may or may not have cameras all over camp."

Piper whacks him in the back of the head. "Leo whatever your middle name is Valdez! I told you to take those down! You have a girlfriend, _you should not be spying on girls in the shower_!"

"Ow!" Leo rubs the back of his head. His eyes go wide when he locks eyes with Calypso, who I can tell is about to start yelling. He quickly continues: "I took _those_ down! I just kept the rest of them up. Oh, the blackmail I have going on. You wouldn't believe–"

"Okay," I interrupt, not entirely surprised that Leo had cameras in the bathroom (though it kind of scares me…). "Point is, you guys can't all come."

I count three seconds of complete silence before my friends start to yell.

"Why not? You might need the back up!"

"Annabeth! We can help you out!"

"We all want Percy back!"

"The Underworld is dangerous!"

Chiron holds up his hand for silence, and, after a moment he gets it. "I understand you all wish to go. However, on such short notice, I don't know if I can send all of you."

My friends start to protest.

Chiron continues. "My maximum is seven."

Leo smirks. "You should send _the_ Seven, eh?"

He realizes too late what he said was wrong, as everyone falls possibly more silent then before.

I big my nails into the palms of my hands. _Keep it together, Annabeth. You're okay. You'll find him._

Leo sends me an apologizing look.

"How about the Seven," I say, my voice monotone to keep from shaking, "minus Percy, of course, and then plus Nico?"

Everyone looks surprised that I managed to say his name, but no one comments.

"Sounds good to me," Piper says after a moment.

"Wait one cotton-pickin' minute!" Connor Stoll yells. "What about the rest of us?"

"Yeah, only the gods know what kind of mess Prissy has gotten himself into this time," Clarisse calls out.

"If they find Percy," Chiron yells over the noise, "they can easily get in contact with us and get back-up!" He looks worn out, and he sighs. "Do you need anything before you leave, Annabeth?"

"Mortal money and a few Galleons might be helpful, Chiron," I say. "As well as nectar and ambrosia."

"Yes, of course," he replies. He sends someone off to get them, before dismissing all the demigods that're not on the quest. After a few protests, they turn and head back to their cabins.

"I will walk you to the edge of camp. Argus will drive you into town." Chiron tells us.

He stands up, slowly getting up from his chair so that he can get both his front and back legs out.

The demigod returns with the supplies, before running off.

Chiron hands me the things. "Annabeth, may you do me a favor, before you head to the Underworld?"

I nod.

He folds his hands together. "Please stop by Sally Jackson's place and let her know about her son and his… whereabouts."

I nod again, unable to speak for a moment. I clear my throat before replying. "Of course."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

We sit in the back of a van (driven by Argus).

Jason and Piper talk quietly. Leo is trying to convince Nico of something. Frank and Hazel whisper, looking worried.

I take out the note found in Percy's room the day he was gone.

_You will never find him._

I can just imagine Percy's response: "We specialize in doing stuff that can 'never happen'."

"What cha readin'?" Leo scoots over next to me.

I try to put the note away, but Leo snatches it from me.

He looks at it for a moment: the message and the Deathly Hallow's symbol.

"What if he's stuck in Harry Potter world?" Leo laughs suddenly.

We all turn and look at him.

"You've read Harry Potter?" Jason asks after a pause.

Leo smirks. "The guy defeated an evil bald guy with no nose, _as a baby_. If that doesn't spell awesome, I don't know what does."

Another silence.

"I didn't know you could read," Piper says, completely serious.

Jason and I burst out laughing. Apparently we're the only ones who've read the books and seen the movies (besides Leo, apparently). Jeez.

"Nice one, Pipes!" Jason laughs.

Piper looks confused. "What?"

I laugh harder, remembering the second movie. "Oh gods."

Piper just shakes her head at us.

"Anyway," Jason says, still laughing, turning to Leo. "You're idea is completely awesome, but not possible. Harry Potter, sadly, doesn't exist."

I snort. "Yeah, when Harry Potter's real, I'll have a cousin who's… I don't know… the child of a Norse god!"

**i love doing sentences like ^^ this one and the last chapter's last one :,D**

**btw r u ever having a regular conversation with someone, and then they say something and you go "Gods, that's hilarious!" or "Merlin, that's so stupid!" and they just stare at u and u have no idea what the Hades u did? **

**review!**

**Auf Wiedersehen!**


	14. Chapter 14

**IM NOT DEAD OR DISCONTINUING ANYTHING.**

**anyway i have had personal issues lately and that's my excuse. sorry 4 the wait :( im not asking for sympathy, but i hope you continue to read my stories becuz i really appreciate it. i love u guys.**

**I HATE IT WHEN U GUYS FIGURE OUT THINGS. IM JUST READING PEACEFULLY THROUGH THE REVIEWS AND THEN: ****_SPOILER ALERT!_**** jk you guys are brilliant. keep letting me know ur predictions and ideas :)**

**read!**

CHAPTER FOURTEEN~PERCY

All eyes turn to me when I open the doors.

"You must be Perseus Jackson," a plump lady at the front of the room says.

"Um, just Percy," I correct, shifting uncomfortably with everyone looking.

"Well, I hope that in the future you will arrive to my class… on time?" she raises her eyebrows at me.

"Yes, ma'am," I reply. "Just got lost…"

She nods, gesturing for me to stand next to a Gryffindor with dirty blond hair (like the color… her hair wasn't literally dirty… I think…).

I nod, lining up next to her.

"I'm Lavender," the girl says with a blush.

"Percy," I reply, trying to focus my attention on the Professor… what's her name again? Sprite? Sprout? Crap.

"I know," Lavender flashes me a smile.

I give a weak smile back, my eyes now fixed on the horrible thing that the teacher (professor, whatever) is showing us.

I figured from the greenhouses that Herbology had to do with plants, but these things looked less like plants and more like thick, black, giant slugs. They squirm slightly and have a number of large, shiny swellings that appear to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," she says. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus –"

"The _what_?" a boy (whose name I'm told is Seamus Finnigan) says, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus, and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

"Um, excuse me?" I raise my hand.

"Yes, Jackson?" she says.

"I, uh," I glance in my bag. "I forgot my gloves."

I can see she's trying not to glare at me. Great. Already one teach– I mean _professor_– hates me.

"There's a spare over in that box," she gestures to said box before she continues talking.

Squeezing the bubotubers is (no other way to put it) disgusting. When a swelling popped, large amounts of thick yellowish-green liquid comes out, pouring into the bottles, smelling of gasoline.

Lavender complained often as we emptied the pus and used quite a few different ways of calling it gross:

"This is _thoroughly_ revolting."

"Squeezing pus? What are we, slaves?"

"Ew! No, that's repulsive."

"What purpose does this serve, anyway?"

"The smell is ghastly!"

To say she was annoying is an understatement, but I'm pretty sure if I told her to shut up, she would tattle-tale on me, and I have no doubt the professor would take her side.

When we finish, Lavender throws off her gloves, playing up the whole "grossed-out" thing.

I catch eyes with Justin, who's down the table a little ways. He rolls his eyes and gestures to Lavender in sympathy.

I nod, also glancing at Lavender, who is having a conversation with her friend about something or another (probably how unsanitary pus is).

I sigh, and when class is over, I'm the first out the door (after, of course, returning the gloves).

Justin, Hannah, and Ernie catch up to me.

"Hey, Percy," Hannah greets. "Sorry, you got stuck next to Lavender."

"Yeah, she loves pus, doesn't she, eh Percy?" Ernie elbows me teasingly.

"Oh, shut up," I laugh.

"Merlin, that was insufferable," Justin glances over his shoulder at the greenhouses. "I mean, I get it, the stuff cures bad acne, but making kids squeeze pus should be against the law!"

We all nod in agreement.

"I've got to head to Care of Magical Creatures," I sigh, disappointed that I can't keep walking with my friends. "Where you headed?"

"Transfiguration," Hannah answers. "McGonagall is really grouchy with our class."

"Hannah," Ernie says, "McGonagall is _always_ grouchy."

"Got that right," I say. "She nearly bit my head off when I was late to class."

"You got caught by McGonagall?" Justin's eyes widen. "Sucks for you."

"Tell me about it." I notice the Gryffindors heading towards the Forbidden Forest. "Catch you guys later." I start to walk away.

"See you."

"Bye!"

"Watch out for Malfoy!" Ernie had spotted the Slytherins coming out of the castle.

I smirk and wave, before turning and continuing to walk to class.

"Hey, Jackson!" a voice calls.

I turn to see Seamus Finnigan and his friend… Thomas Dean? Dean Thomas?

"You play Quidditch, mate?" Finnigan asks.

Is that all anyone ever asks me? How much do these people like Quidditch, anyway? Don't they have more than one sport? Preferably one not off the ground.

"Nah," I say.

They both look surprised. "You old enough to enter the tournament? No offense or anything, but the Daily Prophet said they held you back a little," Thomas (can't remember if that's his first or last name…) says.

I shrug. "I'm sixteen," I say.

"Damn," Finnigan says. "I thought maybe we'd have someone from our grade. That'd be awesome."

I bite my lip. Originally, I was eighteen, but as soon as I got here, I went back in time like two years. Would I be able to enter the Tournament?

Do I want to?

"What about football? You play that?" Thomas asks.

"Sometimes, I guess," I say. I'm not sure if he's talking about American or British football, but I don't comment. "Or I used to."

"You a muggle-born?"

"Half-blood." That joke doesn't get old.

"Us, too!" Finnigan says.

We arrive before a hut, with a large man standing in front, holding a huge dog by the collar with crates at his feet.

"By the way," Finnigan turns to me, holding out his hand. "I'm Seamus Finnigan, if you don't remember. Call me Seamus."

I shake his hand.

"And I'm Dean Thomas." I shake his hand too.

"Mornin'!" the huge man says, grinning. He sees me. "Yeh must be Percy!"

"Hi," I say, lamely.

"I'm Hagrid." He turns back to the class. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Ron says from the front of the class.

Hagrid points to the crates.

"Eurgh!" Lavender squeals. Wow, she's having quite a day.

But I agree with her when I see them: they look like deformed, shell-less lobsters, with legs sticking out in very odd places. About one hundred of them sat in each crate, around six inches long. They smell like rotting fish.

"On'y jus' hatched, so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yourselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project out of it!" Hagrid says proudly. Why the Hades is he proud of these things?

Pfft, _wizards_.

"And why would we _want_ to raise them?" says a cold voice.

Before even seeing it was Malfoy, I probably could've guessed. His cronies chuckle at his words.

Hagrid seems to have no answer.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I really have to agree with Malfoy on this one. Why would we? Squeezing pus and raising creepy mutant slug-lobster babies was _not_ on my to-do list for today.

"I mean, what do they _do_?" asks Malfoy. "What is the _point_ of them?"

Again, I find this a very good point, despite the person who happens to be saying it.

Hagrid appears to be thinking hard, pausing for a few seconds. Then he says roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things – I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer – I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake – just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," Seamus mutters.

I agree wholeheartedly. _What is wrong with these people_?

Not wanting to make yet another teacher hate me, I resist upchucking best I can, grab a handful of frog liver, and lower my hand into the crate.

By the end of the lesson, Dean had gotten burned and we all now knew that these "amazing" creatures could not only burn, but sting and suck blood! Lucky us!

As I head to the castle for lunch, I catch up to Neville Longbottom, who is nearly my height, so he's easier to talk to (I think).

"Hey," I say, walking next to him.

He looks at me, eyes widening. "Hi," he says. "You're Percy Jackson."

"That _would_ be my name, yes," I laugh.

He seems to relax slightly. "Um, so, you like Hogwarts so far?"

"I guess," I say, running my hand through my hair. "I've never really been much of a school person, though. I always end up messing something up. Blowing something up or flooding something."

"Seamus has a thing for blowing up stuff," Neville points to said person, who was a little ways ahead.

"We'll most likely be friends, then," I mutter, serious. However, Neville laughs.

I smile at him, and we continue to make our way to the castle

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I had gone with Dean and Seamus to the North Tower for Divination.

Now we sit in a circular room bathed in dim, reddish light, smelling of perfume. Chairs and poufs sit around tables all around the room.

I sit down with Dean and Seamus. Looking around the room, I spot Harry and Ron. It doesn't take a child of Athena to know that Ron doesn't like me, for whatever reason. Harry is torn between Hermione, who's a good friend, and Ron, who, as I said before, doesn't like me.

Since Hermione's not here, it's probably best to stay away…

"Good day," a misty voice says out of nowhere.

I jump, spotting who I assume to be Professor Trelawney.

She's thin, with giant glasses and frizzy hair. Beads and chains glitter on her neck and wrists.

She's looking at Harry with a tragic expression.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she says mournfully to him. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas… most difficult… I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass… and perhaps sooner than you think…."

She looks up, walking away and going to seat herself in an armchair by the fire.

Before she does so, however, she spots me.

Her eyes go impossibly wide. "Oh, heavens above," she says, coming closer to me.

I see Dean and Seamus smirking behind their hands as she approaches.

"You have suffered," she begins. I'm not really taking her seriously, admittedly. "Your pain is great, young one." Really? I didn't know. "You have conquered many, ventured to the deepest pits of hell." Yeah, I know. I was there. "The Fates have tortured you, and yet here you are again. In danger. Nearing death. Away from family and friends." My face goes blank as she keeps talking and the room stops snickering as she continues: they're all watching me. "Even the stars in the sky know that your luck is running out, Percy Jackson. I'm sorry to say, your end is drawing near."

I roll my eyes before I can stop myself. "Excuse me, miss, but, uh, all that stuff isn't exactly new to me. My end draws near quite a bit, believe it or not."

The class bursts into laughter at my tone, some people not even trying to hide it.

Trelawney is unfazed. "Perseus–"

"Percy."

"–you, of all people, should be wary of your end." The confusion is probably evident on my face. She continues. "You and I both know you're not a wizard." The class grows yet again quiet, looking from me to Trelawney, befuddled.

She stares at me. "I am descended from a child of the sun god. You are–"

"Okay," I interrupt her, trying to hide my surprise, and also trying to keep her from blurting out that I'm a demigod (if that's what she's talking about). "Look, that's great and all, but you're wrong. I'm a wizard."

I show her my wand, looking at her as if she's nuts.

In my mind, on the other hand, Aberforth's words play in my mind: _The demigod before me was a daughter of Apollo. She taught Divination for years._

Could Trelawney be descended from her? I hope not. This lady isn't entirely someone I want for an ally.

"And so much more than a wizard, Percy," she continues. Jeez, this lady won't give it up! Please, just predict my death and let's be done with it! "The stars have told me that you come from another place, another world. That you have fought many battles and earned many scars."

Before I can stop her, she snatches my arm and pushes up my sleeve far enough to see part of a scar from a fight against some hellhounds a few months ago.

I rip my arm out of her hands, but not before the majority of the class sees my scar.

"Your death is soon," she insists.

"Sure it is, lady," I growl, not bothering to hide that I'm ticked off.

"Maybe even sooner than his," she turns and gestures to Harry, who's staring at us with wide eyes, as is the rest of the class. "And yours is bound to be more gruesome, with the revenge that You-Know-Who wants on you."

The whole class gasps in unison. Whispering breaks out, people point at me and gape. I just slump in my seat, wishing I could stomp out of this class, but pretty sure if I did that, I'd get kicked out of school.

If I was kicked out of school, the other option was most likely Azkaban.

"Be careful," she says. I'm about ready to punch her. My hands are clenching and unclenching, twitching. "You have many enemies. Some maybe be closer than you think."

With that she turns and walks towards the front of the class.

The class looks from her to me, watching my reaction.

My wand is gripped tightly in my hand. It would be so easy to cast some sort of spell…

But what do I know? She's right. I'm not a wizard. I don't know many spells. What if my luck has finally run out? What if I die before I see Annabeth again?

At the thought of Annabeth, my face goes slack. I will she her again. Whatever it takes, I _will_.

"Hey, mate," Seamus whispers across the table at me. "You alright? Just ignore her, she's completely nuts. She's predicted Harry's death every year and he's still fine."

I nod, but I can't get rid of my fears. What if she's right?

What if Voldemort kills me?

He wasn't at full strength then, when I met him before. When he is, there's a good chance I'm dead.

**thoughts on this long-overdue chapter?**

**ATTENTION: MY OTHER STORY WILL HOPEFULLY GET UPDATED SOON. I'M ALMOST DONE WITH THE CHAPTER. SORRY FOR THE WAIT. :(**

**I LOVE U GUYS.**

**Sayonara!**


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